


I Would Do It Again

by AnonymousWritings, citrusmallows



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/F, F/M, Falsettos References, Good Parent Marvin (Falsettos), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, In Trousers References, Internalized Homophobia, Jason & Marvin (Falsettos) Bonding, Literally no one asked for this whoops, M/M, Marvin is a Mess (Falsettos), New York being written by someone who has clearly never been to New York, Past life dream sequences, Photographer Whizzer Brown, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-08 06:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousWritings/pseuds/AnonymousWritings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusmallows/pseuds/citrusmallows
Summary: Mark Levi had weird dreams. He had been having them since he was young, and had become used to them. He didn't think much of them for the longest time. Until- quite literally- the man of his dreams walked into his life. Well, as was much more typical of the life Mark lived, it was more of a stumble. Most definitely not on purpose, and with its own set of consequences.(Thank you citrusmallows for being my beta reader/editor!)
Relationships: Dr. Charlotte/Cordelia (Falsettos), Jason (Falsettos) & Everyone, Marvin & Charlotte, Marvin & Cordelia (Falsettos), Trina/Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Whizzer Brown & Everyone, Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 41
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck so I couldn't figure out how to tag that the characters all have different names post reincarnation except for Whizzer, so here. Cause, y'know, the whole reincarnation thing switched up their names for the most part.
> 
> Marvin: Mark  
Trina: Trinity  
Mendel: Menachem  
Jason: Jacob  
Charlotte: Charlie  
Cordelia: Cecilia
> 
> Also this my first time posting something I wrote in years so please be gentle lmao.
> 
> Also, any advice on writing about Jewish characters and stuff would be appreciated. I have done some research but I know it's best to get advice about representation directly from the people you are trying to represent. :0

_Marvin readied his racquet, watching his lover dive forwards to hit it only to miss and have it hit his heel instead. His lover stumbled a few times before regaining his balance and turning towards Marvin. _

_"Hit my heel, " he huffed out. Marvin crossed his arms. _

_"Don't be bitter, " he remarked, expecting him to be annoyed by the fact that he lost. _

_The other man simply shrugged, taking a moment to catch his breath. "It's no big deal, you win." _

_Marvin quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. "Are you really just going to quit like that?" _

_The other man huffed and turned away. "I can't go on anymore, Marv." _

_Marvin frowned, beginning to grow a little concerned. "What do you mean?"_  
_"Nothing let's just go."_  
_"Whiz-"_  
_The other man turned to leave but collapsed to the floor with a gasp. Marvin rushed forwards, reaching for him. _

_"Hey, " he said softly, placing his hand on his shoulder. The other man looked up, his brown eyes filled with fear. The man was shaking softly and his response came out as barely more than a whisper. _

_"I'm sorry."_

———

"Your taste in clothing is shit, Mark."  


Mark rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "It's not that bad." 

Charlie scoffed, crossing her arms and leaning forward in her chair. "Dude, most of the time you look like you got dressed blindfolded and in the dark." 

Mark rolled his eyes and Cecilia giggled. "My fiancee's right Marky boy and you know it. C'mon, let us take you shopping." 

Charlie nodded. "I am not letting you wear an outfit you chose to our wedding."

Mark sighed, he knew there was no winning this, these two were just as stubborn and persistent as he was, if not more. "Fine." 

Cecilia lit up with a grin and clapped her hands together. "Oh, I cannot wait to pick out a proper suit for you!" 

Charlie smiled and leaned back, satisfied. "Let's go now then." 

Mark quirked an eyebrow. "Right now?"

Mark was a bit beyond tired, which wasn't too unusual. His dreams were almost never pleasant enough for a good night of sleep. 

"Yeah, why not?" Charlie stood up from the plush chair she had been sitting on and readjusted the pillow on it. 

Mark groaned. "Shopping is the worst, I thought you two would give me time to mentally prepare." 

Charlie lightly kicked him in the leg. "Stop being such a drama queen." 

Mark huffed. "Stop being so impulsive," he retorted. 

"Never," Cecilia said with a grin, her blonde curls bouncing as she tilted her head. 

Mark frowned. "Can't this wait?" Cecilia grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him up and Mark yelped. 

"Nope!" She exclaimed cheerily. 

Mark furrowed his brows and rubbed his arm. "Alright then, I'm only doing this cause I love you two." 

Charlie smiled. "Yeah, we know."

———

"That's literally the same color as the last one!"

Cecilia huffed. "It is not! It's bluer!"  
Mark rolled his eyes, they had been in the same damn store for half an hour already and were still choosing some clothes for him to try, with little to no input from Mark. And he was beginning to feel like the lesbians were just about as exasperated with him being here as he was.

Mark was kind of just, standing around or following the lesbians as they perused the racks. Mark ran his hand over the clothing items as he walked past them, following Cecilia like a young child. Honestly, he was pretty relieved, shopping was never really his thing so he didn't mind not having to be too involved. That way, he could daydream or just think about meaningless things. Or less meaningless things. Like the dream he had last night.

Mark sighed at the thought. He has been plagued with dreams similar since around the beginning of high school. He had his first one the night of his 14th birthday. He had been in a big house, it was the dream person's birthday, and nothing was prepared, so dream him threw a fit until he got what he wanted. It was strange, but he had brushed it off. But he kept having similar dreams, just in different settings. Sometimes he was a high school student throwing up in a bathroom stall, other times he was an adult sneaking home like a guilty teenager for reasons he wasn't quite sure of yet.

The dreams weren't very descriptive, and he was only recently able to remember most of them. They were always pretty foggy in one way or another though. He could see just fine, but couldn't hear or vice versa. Sometimes he could only see one thing clearly, like someone's eyes or smile or the wedding ring on his finger.

It was strange, to say the least. He hadn't really told anyone about it since college, and even then he didn't mention that they're reoccurring and that they had been happening since he was 14. They weren't important, and he doubted anyone would have any more answers than he did. Which was none. Last night's dream though, was one of the more troubling ones. It was one that had him waking up filled with anxiety and dread. It wasn't quite enough to make him cry like some of the others, but it definitely ruined his mood for a while.

"Hey, Mark, what do you think of this one?"

Mark's train of thought was violently derailed when suddenly Charlie spoke up, holding a suit jacket right in front of his face. "Uh, it looks...nice?" Mark said, unsure of what to say. It genuinely looked almost identical to all the other ones they had already shown him. Charlie sighed softly.

"Alright, you obviously don't care, here." Charlie handed Mark a few suit jackets. "You wait around the changing rooms, Cecilia and I are going to choose some shirts and pants to go with one of these." 

Mark sighed. "Alright, " he replied dejectedly.  
He plopped himself down on the bench and watched as Charlie and Cecilia disappeared from sight into the rest of the store. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and began to idly look through it, occasionally glancing up to survey his surroundings. After a minute or two though, something, or rather, someone caught his eye, and immediately several alarms went off in his head.

A man looking through a clothing rack a few feet away, who was unfairly attractive mind you, was one of the reasons there were alarms going off in his head at the moment.

He was dressed up in a leather jacket and form-fitting pants as well as fancy looking shoes. He also had really nice hair that probably took him hours to style.

The other reason there were alarms going off in his head was the fact that he was incredibly familiar. Looking at him almost felt like deja vu. He hated when shit like this happened. _Where had he seen him before?_ He found it hard to believe that he would be able to forget someone who looked like that. He was tall, had painfully styled dark brown hair and was wearing stylish clothes. You don't really forget someone like that.

_Maybe he was someone he knew from high school?_ No, he probably wouldn't even find anyone he went to school with even somewhat familiar, he had never paid attention to anyone there. _Maybe he was someone he hooked up with?_ Oh God, he really hoped not. Thankfully that is pretty unlikely, he is way out of Mark's league. Mark probably wouldn't even be able to convince the dude to talk to him, let alone sleep with him.

Mark decided to sneak another glance, hoping it might help him figure it out. Unluckily for him, he made eye contact with the dude that exact moment. _Shit._ Mark quickly looked down again, silently hoping the dude didn't notice or care. Mark swiftly decided he needed to leave the area and find Charlie and Cecilia. But before he could do that he heard footsteps.

"Do you need something?"

_Fuck_. Mark turned to the stranger who was now standing right in front of him. "I, uh, pardon?" Mark replied nervously. 

"You were looking at me." The man quirked an eyebrow, looking Mark up and down. 

Mark gulped. "Oh, sorry, I thought you looked like someone I know. I didn't mean to bother you." It wasn't a lie, really, but he was sure he couldn't really know anyone like him.

"Huh," the stranger replied uncrossing his arms. "Well, I'm, " before the man even said his name, Mark thought it. 

"Whizzer, " the two said in unison. Whizzer looked a bit taken aback, as did Mark. _What the hell?_ Mark thought, panicking a little. Why did he know this dude's name? Why did he blurt it out? Mark quickly tried to direct the conversation away from the fact that he already knew Whizzer's name before it got there.

"I'm Mark." Whizzer still looked a bit suspicious but didn't question how he knew his name. Mark was thankful for that. He wasn't sure how he would explain it since he didn't know the answers.

"Mark? Huh, not what I would have guessed, personally." Mark furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

"What do you mean?" Mark assumed that was some sort of insult, automatically bristling. Whizzer ran a hand through his hair. 

"I mean, Mark doesn't really, _suit_ you," he said, making a vague hand-gesture. Mark shrugged. 

"I think it's fine," he remarked, somewhat defensively. He really didn't. He had always felt the name didn't quite fit either, but it didn't really matter, he didn't mind it too much.

"So, why are you here?" Whizzer asked, promptly changing the conversation topic. 

"Uh, my friends are getting married soon, and they wanted to take me shopping for a suit to wear," 

Whizzer smirked slightly. "Let me guess, you have a shit taste in clothing so they strung you along to buy clothes for you?" 

Mark wrinkled his nose and glanced away. "Yeah." Whizzer snickered, and the conversation was brought to an uncomfortable halt.

Mark decided to attempt to break the silence. "Since you asked me, why are you here?" Mark asked after a few moments of silence. 

Whizzer shrugged nonchalantly as he replied, "Just lookin' around." Mark nodded awkwardly, averting his gaze. "Cool." Once again they fell into silence. Mark tapped his foot uncomfortably. _God, why couldn't he have been blessed with the ability to keep a conversation going?_

"So, are you new to New York?" Mark asked after a while, deciding that was a good enough topic. 

Whizzer hummed in thought before replying. "No, not really. I've been here for a few years now." 

Mark replied, "Huh, so, do you like it more than where you're from?" Whizzer grinned. "Yeah." 

Mark replied without thinking. "It's probably easier to be a photographer around here, huh?" 

Whizzer went silent for a moment. "How did you know that?"  
"Know what?"  
"That I'm a photographer."  
Mark was a tad bit taken aback. _How did he know that?_ It was like how he already knew Whizzer's name before he said it. Which, needless to say, weird as _fuck._

"I...don't know," Mark admitted. "Lucky guess? You look like a photography kinda...guy," He suggested. _Fuck, this guy probably thought he was some kind of stalker or some shit._ _Fuck_. The conversation died again, but this time it felt way more uncomfortable, which Mark didn't even know was possible.

Suddenly Whizzer cleared his throat and Mark looked up at him. His nonchalance had returned and he offhandedly remarked, "Well, I should get going." 

Mark shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Oh, alright." Whizzer looked down at Mark and their eyes met. He had dark brown eyes, just like the man from his dream, and as soon as Mark had that realization his heart skipped a beat. _Shit, he knew exactly why he thought Whizzer looked familiar._

Whizzer adjusted his leather jacket and smiled. "See ya around, Marv." And with that, he walked off. Mark gulped, watching as he left before looking down at the floor.

_How had he not realized it before?_ Now that he thought about it, it was painfully obvious. Specifically his eyes and hair. Whizzer, the guy he just met, looked like the man from his dream, or rather, dreams. And not in the, he is super attractive and cool way, the literal way. He had seen the same man multiple times and in different situations. Sometimes he was collapsing after a game, sometimes he could hear him at a baseball game, sometimes he was dying. Mark took a deep breath. _It was just a coincidence, right? It had to be._

"Did that guy just call you Marv?"

Mark was snapped out of his train of thought by Charlie, who was now in front of him holding a few shirts. His thoughts completely scattered as soon as he registered what she said.

Mark quirked an eyebrow, confused. "What?" 

Charlie glanced to where Whizzer had gone then back to Mark. "That guy, did he just call you Marv?" 

Mark furrowed his eyebrows. "Did he?" 

Charlie shrugged. "That's what it sounded like to me." Mark leaned back on the bench. "You probably just heard him wrong." 

Charlie shrugged again. "Maybe, " she admitted.

Mark quirked an eyebrow. "How much of that did you even hear?" 

Charlie grinned. "A bit, enough to tell how much of a mess you are in front of a pretty face." Mark groaned and rubbed his eyes. "I mean you should have seen your face when y'all made eye contact." 

Mark swiftly changed the conversation topic. Where's Cecilia?" He asked. 

"She's looking at ties and pants, now try these on." Charlie handed over some clothes. 

Mark grimaced as the shirts were added to his pile of jackets. "Do I really have to try all of these on?" 

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Here, let me pair them up first."

Charlie took the pile of clothing and began to put certain shirts and jackets together. Mark sighed as he watched her. He really couldn't tell much of a difference between the jackets. The shirts were easier though since one was white, two were grey and one was black. All of the suit jackets just looked dark blue though.

Of course, Mark had never been a clothing expert. That was the whole reason Mark was here. He probably wouldn't do nearly as good as he was guessing Charlie and Cecilia were.

A few minutes later, he saw Cecilia return with a few ties and practically identical looking sets of pants. Charlie and Cecilia began discussing which pants and ties went with what. After a while, Mark just began to ignore them, opting to stare at the wall instead, trying his best to not think about Whizzer and how he looked just like the dude he kept seeing in his dreams. It was just a coincidence, and he would probably never even see Whizzer again after that mess of an interaction anyway.

Eventually, Charlie and Cecilia finished and handed Mark the clothes. "_Now_ try them on," Charlie said before she sat down at a bench with her fiancee. 

Mark sighed dejectedly and complied. "Alright, no need to be pushy."


	2. Chapter 2

"This pizza is shit."

Charlie looked up from her phone and set it down. "Why are you still eating it then?" Charlie asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Mark sighed dramatically, flopping back in his chair. "Because I'm hungry."

Cecilia rolled her eyes, fiddling with a loose curl in her hair as she replied. "Then stop complaining."

Mark huffed and continued to sulkily eat his trashy pizza. They had finished shopping a while ago; Charlie and Cecilia had settled on a navy jacket, black button-down, black pants, and a blue tie, with little to no input from Mark. He had wanted to head straight home after they finished shopping, but the lesbians decided they wanted to eat somewhere in the mall. He needed to remember to not go out to places with these two anymore. He loved them, but they thrived on being outside, and Mark would much rather be inside.

"So, Marky," Charlie began sweetly. Mark frowned. This couldn't be going anywhere good. "Who was that dude at the store?" Mark groaned.

Cecilia perked up midway through eating a french fry. "What?" She glanced at Mark excitedly.

"Just some random dude. I thought he looked familiar and he caught me staring," Mark explained.

Charlie grinned. "That's the only reason you were staring?"

Mark glared at her. "Shut it." Snickering, Charlie rested her head on her hand.

"So, what was his name? I missed that part," She asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. Mark furrowed his brows, partially in confusion and partially in frustration.

"Why do you care? He's literally just a stranger I had an awkward conversation with for like five minutes," Mark said.

Charlie sighed. "I never get to embarrass you about guys. I've gotta take every chance I can get."  
"You're ridiculous."  
"And you're not?"  
Mark sighed, leaning back in his chair. "...The dude's name is Whizzer."

Suddenly, Cecilia snorted. "Whizzer? What the hell kind of name is that?" She exclaimed, amused.

Charlie laughed lightly as well, leaning against Cecilia as she spoke, "That has to be a nickname."

Mark was slightly surprised. He hadn't even batted an eye when Whizzer introduced himself, or rather when his brain supplied him with the dude's name. But now that he thought about it, Whizzer was a really weird name. Charlie spoke up again after she was done with her giggling fit.

"By the way Mark, you're gonna accompany us to taste cake samples next week," Charlie said. Mark smiled slightly. That sounded much better than the other wedding preparing escapades they had been dragging him to. Then he frowned again.

"Why are you taking me everywhere with you guys?" Mark asked, eyebrows furrowing again. He got defensive about the small things, he was aware of that. But he also genuinely wanted to know. He knew the two typically had some ulterior motives.

Charlie looked unimpressed. "You're my Shoshbin, dumbass. Of course I want your input on these things."

Cecilia piped up. "Also you're a literal hermit, bud. You need to go outside more."

Charlie added on, "For several reasons."

Mark quirked an eyebrow. "Several reasons?"

Cecilia smiled and leaned forward. "First of all, being outside is good for you. Second of all, you're lonely as fuck and need to meet someone new. Hell, I don't think you've dated anyone since we became friends."

Mark stared at them incredulously. "And you think I'm going to find a _boyfriend_ running errands with you two for your _wedding_?"

Charlie shrugged. "You met Whizzer today."

Mark groaned and rubbed his eyes. "God, will you two stop bringing up Whizzer? I talked to him for 5 minutes!" Mark exclaimed, exasperated.

"Hey, all I'm saying is that it isn't impossible for you to meet people while you're out with us. You just need to stop following us like some lost puppy," Charlie explained.

"I go outside on my own!" Mark retorted, leaning forward in his chair slightly for emphasis.

"Yeah, when you get groceries," Cecilia commented dryly, a knowing look on her face.

Mark leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Well, it's just as likely for me to find someone at fucking _Walmart_ as it is when I'm shopping with you two."

Cecilia sighed. "Yeah but we still want your opinion on this stuff. You potentially meeting someone is just an added bonus."

Mark took a frustrated bite of his gross pizza before responding. "Look, can we stop talking about my nonexistent love life and focus on why we're here in the first place? Y'know, your wedding?"

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Alright, ya big grump. Like I said, we're going to be choosing a cake soon and I want your input."

Mark sighed. "Why aren't you inviting Trinity to these things? I'm sure she'd appreciate it." Mark didn't actually want to reject the offer to eat cake, and he enjoyed spending time with these two. But he was also genuinely curious. And stupidly stubborn.

"She's too busy with work and Jacob since he isn't staying at yours this weekend" Cecilia replied. _Right, Jacob._ Jacob is, simply put, his and Trinity's son who visits on the weekends. In all honesty, though, the situation and story behind it is much too complicated and Mark really didn't want to think about it at the moment.

"And," Charlie continued. "You're important to the ceremony. You're gonna be helping a lot more anyways."

Mark smiled softly. "Right."

"So, do you wanna go or not?" Cecilia asked, leaning forward and tilting her head to the side.

Mark rolled his eyes and smiled. "Do you really think I would say no to eating cake?"

Cecilia smiled and shrugged. "I dunno, you seemed pretty hesitant."

Charlie snickered. "That's just because he's a stubborn prick."

Mark wrinkled his nose and huffed. "Yeah, but you really don't have to point it out." The two women giggled.

"Welp, I've been done for a while. I think it's time to go," Charlie remarked, picking up her empty bag of fast food. Cecilia nodded in agreement but Mark stared at her incredulously.

Mark coughed to get their attention. "Um, I'm not done."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "You don't even like the pizza your eating."  
"I'm hungry, Char."  
"Whatever. Ceci and I are heading out to the car, you can meet us there when you're done."

Mark shrugged. "Alright."

Charlie and Cecilia proceeded to gather up their trash before leaving the food court. Mark continued to lazily eat his icky pizza, examining his surroundings. He nearly choked when he saw a familiar face heading over to the food court.

Whizzer.

On second thought, he wasn't hungry at all. In fact, he wanted out of this food court right this very second. There's no way in hell he was gonna risk bumping into that guy. He wouldn’t be able to stomach another awkward conversation like the one before.

Mark was about to hastily gather his things and leave, hopefully unnoticed, when he made eye contact with Whizzer.

The man in question smiled charmingly and waved. _Shoot_. Mark smiled awkwardly and waved back politely, before almost getting up to leave again. That's when Whizzer started heading over. _Fuck_. _Why is he coming over?_

Whizzer placed his food on the table and plopped down on the seat in front of Mark.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon, but here we are," Whizzer said idly while digging through his bag of food, glancing up at Mark every now and then, in an almost suspicious way. Mark wasn't sure what warranted that to be honest.

Mark chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, well- We were shopping in the same mall, so it's not much of a surprise." Whizzer hummed in agreement.

"Anywho, you said you were shopping with your friends. Where are they?" He grinned playfully, "Or were you lying about actually having friends?"

Mark huffed, deciding to let the jab slide. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and answered. "They finished eating before me and decided to head out 'n start the car."

Whizzer smiled. "Well don't let me keep you here too long then."

Mark smiled awkwardly before beginning to eat his pizza again. He directed his gaze to the table, avoiding eye contact at all costs. It was just so surreal to see a dude he had literally seen in his dreams in real life. Especially considering the many situations he had seen this man in. Mark flushed at the thought. _God_ that was the opposite of what he needed to think about right now.

"Anywho, since you seem to already know some stuff about me," Whizzer began suddenly, slightly startling Mark. "I wanna know some things about you."

_This is way too surreal,_ Mark decided. He had met this guy like, half an hour ago and talked to him for four minutes. It just felt a bit weird that they were talking as if they were like, on a blind date or something. They were still practically strangers, and Mark had really thought it would be a one time encounter. Another one of those things when you chat with someone in the line behind you at Walmart then never see them again. Of course, not much about Mark's life was normal to begin with.

"Uh...sure," Mark replied hesitantly. Mark thought for a minute before saying anything. He decided to answer the same things he had asked Whizzer earlier. Well, sort of. He never really asked about Whizzer's occupation, but it was only fair that Whizzer knew the same things Mark knew about him. "I have a desk job, and I've lived in New York for..._W__ay_ too long."

Whizzer nodded. "Sounds about right."

Mark squinted at him. "What?"

Whizzer shrugged. "I had a feeling. I dunno why. You just seemed like a boring desk job kind of guy."

Mark quirked an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be an insult?"

Whizzer snickered. "Sure, if you wanna look at it that way. I wasn't wrong though."

Mark sighed. "I suppose."

Whizzer grinned and ran a hand through his too-perfect hair.

Mark tapped his fingers on the table nervously, too uncomfortable to look at his unfinished pizza, let alone eat it. "So, how is the whole photography thing going?"

Whizzer popped a french fry into his mouth before replying. "'S okay. Better than before I lived in New York, I guess. But it's still an art job which is...never easy," Whizzer lamented with a sigh.

Mark almost asked where he was from, but his brain helpfully supplied him with the answer; Omaha. Jesus, couldn't he get to know this guy on his own? He decided to ask anyway, as he assumed he was probably wrong. "So, where are you from?"

Whizzer picked at his food as he replied. "Omaha, Nebraska. Ya know, the middle of nowhere." _Well fuck._ Maybe he should just listen to his brain, huh? He honestly felt slightly stupid now for not trusting his really fucking weird instincts now.

The conversation went on from there. It was just casual small talk, but it was definitely less awkward than before. It probably had to do with the fact that he wasn't blurting out random things he suddenly knew about Whizzer before he said it. _God_, Mark was really thankful that Whizzer wasn't bringing that up. Besides that, the conversation felt like catching up with an old friend.

"You know, Mark really doesn't suit you," Whizzer said suddenly.

Mark furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Okay? I'm pretty sure you said that already."

Whizzer tilted his head slightly. "Yeah, I know. I can't help but think something else would work better though."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Well, what do you think would suit me better?"

Whizzer was silent for a long moment. "Honestly? You seem more like a Marv-"

Whizzer was abruptly interrupted when Mark's phone went off. "Ah, sorry," Mark said hurriedly before taking his phone out of his pocket. It was from Charlie. "Uh, hello?"

Charlie huffed. "Yo, how long are you going to eat that damn pizza slice?" Right. How long has he been talking to Whizzer? "Ah, sorry Char. I'll be there in a minute." Mark stood, beginning to gather his stuff. He quickly hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket, shooting Whizzer and apologetic glance. "Sorry, I gotta go."

Whizzer waved him off, smiling calmly. "Nah, it's fine. You go catch up with your friends." Mark smiled and rushed off, dropping his trash in the trash can as he passed by it.

"What took you so long?" Charlie asked, furrowing her brows.

Mark smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, I ran into someone." Charlie quirked an eyebrow, obviously expecting clarification. "Whizzer, the guy I met earlier, happened to show up in the food court and sat with me," he explained.

Charlie smiled. "Huh, okay. I knew you found the guy attractive, but I didn't think you'd end up getting along with a stranger so well that you could talk to him for like, 20 minutes."

Mark gaped at her. "20 _minutes_?"

Charlie snickered. "Yeah, that's a record for you. You never talk to anyone you just met for that long."

Mark blinked and then shrugged. "He's nice, I can talk to nice people."

Cecilia piped up from inside the car. "Yeah, but _you're_ not nice, Marky."

Mark huffed. "I'm not _that_ rude anymore."

Charlie shrugged. "Yeah, we know. You're just a bit off-putting to strangers. I guess not Whizzer though."

Mark was slightly taken aback, she wasn't wrong. He wasn't a huge fan of making new friends. There really wasn't a reason. Maybe it was because he sorta already knew him? He knew someone mildly similar to him, at the very least.

Mark huffed. This was too complicated, and he really needed to stop overthinking. People aren't always consistent, this was probably just a fluke. Maybe he just felt like being more extroverted today, he supposed.

Charlie hummed thoughtfully. "Did you at least ask him for his number?"

Mark froze for a second. He hadn't even thought of that. "Uh, no. I didn't really...think about that."

Cecilia sighed dramatically. "Man, Mark, you talked to this guy for 20 minutes and you couldn't even get his number?"

Mark sighed and opened one of the car doors. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. I'm here now no matter what I did or didn't do, and I wanna go home."

Cecilia snickered. "Alright, impatient much?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo I'm not dead! 
> 
> Sorry it took so long for me to update, stuff came up and it was hard to find time to edit this and finish it :/
> 
> But I'm back now and I hope to update again sooner next time oops

_"Marv, I'm fine, really."_

_Marvin squinted at his lover, speaking with a tone full of doubt. "Says the man in a hospital bed."_

_Whizzer chuckled lightly, before falling into another coughing fit. Marvin stood up and grabbed the glass of water beside his bed, waiting for his ill lover to stop coughing before handing him the glass._

_"Thanks," Whizzer wheezed out before sipping at the water. Marvin could see him wince as he swallowed._

_"You do know I'm not leaving your side ever, right Whiz?" Marvin stated, seemingly out of the blue. Whizzer turned to him and met Marvin’s gaze._

_"Stubborn ass." Whizzer grinned playfully, setting down the glass._

_Marvin pouted, brows furrowing. "You should drink more of that, y’know." Whizzer waved his hand dismissively and yawned._

_Marvin sighed and grabbed Whizzer's hand, running his thumb over his knuckles. "You should probably rest, baby," he said softly._

_"If you're going to stay, the least I could do is make sure you aren't lonely," Whizzer replied, his voice gentle._

_Marvin smiled sadly. "You don't need to keep me company. What you do need though, is sleep, Whiz." He reached forward and Whizzer leaned into his hand, smiling contentedly. "I'm not leaving your side either way."_

———

Mark's least favorite part of his dreams was the waking up part. But that wasn't necessarily because he liked them. He just didn't like waking up in such a shitty mood. Not to mention, he was absolutely exhausted. He had been waking up and going back to sleep periodically the whole night.

As soon as he woke up this morning, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. He missed someone desperately, but he didn't know who. Needless to say, it was frustrating. But it was familiar. Mark wasn't sure how he would react if his dreams just stopped one day.

Mark groaned and ran his head through his curly, tangled hair, before forcing himself out of bed. Despite how much he wanted to just lay in bed and sulk, he had work to do. He wasn't going to let these dreams mess up his day more than they normally did.

Mark stumbled through his house, trying desperately to avoid slamming into the occasional wall or piece of furniture. He shuffled into his kitchen, fixing himself a cup of coffee as quickly as he could. Which, in all honesty, wasn't very quick. He felt like he was walking through mud and, despite the fact that he was wearing his glasses, the world was a bit blurry. He figured his glasses were probably just dirty and that problem would likely go away once he put his contacts in.

He plopped down on a chair and sipped at his coffee, trying desperately to keep his head up. Mark had a feeling he wasn't going to make it through the day without passing out. He had been happy that he had gotten more sleep recently and he hadn't needed to worry about passing out or anything. Sadly though, every night since he met Whizzer had been a practically sleepless one.

Mark sighed. There really wasn't much he could do about it. He only hoped that he could make it through the day.

———

"Mark, are you alright?"

Mark nearly jumped out of his skin and quickly turned around. One of his coworkers was leaning into his cubicle. Diane, was it? "Huh?" Mark slowly blinked, meeting her gaze.

‘Diane’ frowned. "You look like you're about to pass out."

Mark shrugged. "I'm fine, don't worry. You can get back to what you were doing uh, Diane."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "It's Caroline."

Mark tensed up, his face flushing. "Right, of course." Caroline waved and waltzed away. Mark rubbed his temples, sighing softly and leaning against his desk.

He really needed to do something about these dreams. They were keeping him up nearly every night and he couldn't even remember a good portion of them.

He huffed and looked back up at his computer. He knew words and numbers were there, but his brain refused to process them. He really wasn't getting any work done today but he still wanted to try.

He had hoped the coffee this morning would be enough, but it was 12 pm now and it had worn off. He would make some coffee, but he couldn't quite muster the motivation to get up. So, for a few minutes, he tried to get back to work.

After a while though, he managed to force himself away from his desk to get coffee. Alas, that proved to be more of a challenge than he had hoped. He stumbled more than he cared to admit and nearly bumped into every object that was unlucky enough to be in his path, including a few unlucky coworkers.

He was leaning against the counter, waiting for his coffee to brew. He blinked, and suddenly, he was on the floor, the coffee machine was beeping at him obnoxiously. Mark furrowed his eyebrows and glanced around.

"The hell?" Mark whispered, mostly to himself. He slowly stood up, grabbing his mug and the pot of freshly brewed coffee. He began to pour it cautiously, blinking again. This time, he hissed in pain as coffee spilled over the rim of his mug and onto his hand.

"Shit!" he hissed, nearly dropping the coffee pot onto the counter as he began to frantically shake his hand. It stung like hell, and he knew immediately he must have burned it. "Fuck," he huffed.

Mark tenderly placed the coffee pot back in its place and snatched up some napkins to clean up the mess spilled all over the counter. Now Mark was really concerned. Whatever was going on was becoming a safety hazard.

Mark shuffled away from the counter and towards the bathroom to run his now burned hand under cold water. His shoes clacked against the tiles as he walked up to the sink and turned it on, the sound of running water filling the empty bathroom. It hurt like hell, but, as an adult who had somehow managed to burn himself while using things like toaster ovens and or plain old toasters, he knew this was a necessary part of treating a burn or scald. Hell, Mark was surprised that none of them had scarred him yet.

After running the water over his hand for a few minutes, he grabbed some paper towels, wetting them before wrapping them around his hand. Mark sighed as he shut off the sink. If work wasn't hard already, it was about to get much worse.

Mark was completely right. Work, an already dreadful occasion, had definitely gotten worse. And his day didn't get any better once work was over, either. He gathered up his things and stumbled out of the office building, tripping and falling the whole walk to the bus stop. It was days like these that Mark was grateful that he took the bus rather than drive to work. He really didn't want to know what would happen if he did the whole “passing out for a minute” thing when he was driving. It sent chills down his spine just thinking about it.

With a sigh, Mark collapsed onto the bus stop bench. He yawned and ran his hand through his hair, taking in his surroundings. The usual hustle and bustle of New York was around him, but it seemed bleary and distant. He supposed this was because of his lack of sleep. He placed his briefcase on his lap and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. Speaking of being sleep-deprived, he was finding it almost impossible to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. And now that he was sat down, it was only getting harder. Mark had been hoping the cold air from outside would be enough to keep him up, yet he knew it was only a matter of time before he passed out again. However, this time he wasn't going down without a fight.

Sadly, there is not much fighting a man suffering from sleep deprivation can do. It wasn't long before the city ambiance lulled him to sleep against his will.

"Hey, I don't think it's the greatest idea to be sleeping here."

Mark felt a tap on his shoulder and jolted awake, quickly turning to find the source of the voice. Well, as quickly as a half-asleep person can. Which isn't very fast at all. Standing in front of the bench he had previously been sleeping on, was Whizzer.

His hair was done-up as usual and he was wearing a crisp white button-down shirt and black dress pants, all complimented by his leather jacket.

"Whizzer, hey," Mark said, running a hand through his hair, suddenly hyper-aware and incredibly self-conscious of how much of a mess it was.

Whizzer smiled, crossing his arms. "Hey, Mark." Mark smiled awkwardly as he tried to adjust himself comfortably so he could properly face Whizzer.

"Do you...usually hang around this bus stop?" Mark asked, fiddling with his tie. Whizzer plopped down next to Mark, a spot he could have sworn was taken by a random stranger only moments ago.

"Nah. I typically just walk by," Whizzer remarked casually. "But today I saw a man sleeping upright on a bench in New York all by himself. You looking to get mugged?" He joked, flashing Mark a grin.

Mark chuckled nervously, casting his gaze to the sidewalk. "I...didn't-" he yawned, "-mean to...fall asleep."

Whizzer quirked an eyebrow, his sly exterior cracking a bit. "Are you okay? You sound exhausted."

Mark blinked, slowly processing the question. "Yeah. 'M fine." Mark could tell Whizzer wasn't fully convinced, and, to be honest, Mark couldn't blame him. He wasn't entirely convinced by himself either.

"Really?" Whizzer remarked, tilting his head and making direct eye contact with Mark.

Mark gulped and glanced away. Y’know, like a liar. "Mhm." Whizzer sighed dramatically.

"Yeah, no. You aren't." Whizzer stood up suddenly, putting a hand on his hip. "Come on, we're getting you some coffee."

Mark’s eyes widened as he gaped up at Whizzer. "I, uh, pardon?"

Whizzer smiled, obviously amused. "You heard me. Now come on, I don't have all evening."

Mark almost got up, but swiftly came to a realization. "I would love to go with you, but I'm waiting for a bus-"

Whizzer leaned forwards a bit as he interrupted. "There isn't another bus for half an hour. You missed yours a few minutes ago."

As soon as Whizzer's words set in, Mark blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Shit."

Whizzer hummed a little before replying, "Shit indeed."

Mark sighed and stood up, his briefcase clutched in his right hand. "Well, let's go get coffee then." Whizzer grinned and held out an arm. Mark glanced at the other man’s arm then back up at Whizzer.

Whizzer quirked an eyebrow. "C'mon, you didn't think I was going to make someone as exhausted as you walk on your own, did you?" Realization crept over Mark and warmth spread to his face.

"Oh- Uh, thank you," he stammered, reaching forwards and tentatively linking his arm with Whizzer's.

Whizzer's smile turned smaller and more sly. As if he now knew something no one else did. "Off we go then."

Mark was beginning to despise the lack of sleep he had gotten in the past week even more.

While Whizzer's presence was keeping him from falling over, he was still stumbling like a drunken idiot, and the weird stares weren't making it any better. Especially considering some of the stares probably weren't directed at his lack of coordination. That specifically, was making his stomach tie in knots and his heart pound so hard he could hear it. He felt nauseous, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He needed to get better about this and not freak out at every glare he got from linking arms, or just being generally intimate in any way, with another man.

Mark stumbled into Whizzer as they stepped into a coffee shop. He wasn't sure which, he didn't hang around this part of town very often. It was a nice place from what Mark could tell.

Hard wooden floors, large windows, and the option of padded booths or normal chairs and tables. It reminded him of the coffee place he worked at when he was in college. Which surprisingly enough, it didn't make him despise the place immediately.

Whizzer gestured for him to sit somewhere while he headed for the counter. Choosing the more comfortable option, Mark shuffled over to a booth and sat down, examining his surroundings.

It felt surreal to be in another coffee shop, as he hadn't been to one in quite a few years. Working at one for as long as he did is probably what made him avoid them. After smelling coffee and different types of creamers for four years, you get sick of it. But, Mark supposed it had been long enough because he felt fine here. Or maybe he was just too tired to care.

"Here you go." Whizzer slipped into the booth opposite of Mark, sliding a cup across the table. Mark picked up the cup and examined its contents.

"How did you know I would want my coffee black?" Mark queried before taking a sip. Whizzer shrugged and fiddled with the straw of his cup.

"Dunno, you just seem like a black coffee kinda guy." He tapped took a sip of his drink. "Either way, you need as much caffeine as you can get so you can make it home," Whizzer said before adding, "Then, you're going to sleep."

Mark chuckled before yawning. "I was planning on it." Mark thought for a second before saying, "I don’t think black coffee has more caffeine than normal coffee."

Whizzer quirked an eyebrow. "Wait, really?" Mark nodded, staring at his drink as he swirled it idly. God, he was exhausted. "Huh." Whizzer tapped the table distractedly. "I didn't know that." The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Mark was grateful for not having to waste energy on speaking and was savoring every second. It took a few minutes for Mark to realize that he hadn’t even thanked Whizzer.

"Thanks," he said out of the blue.

Whizzer quirked an eyebrow, seeming to be a little caught off guard. "Huh?"

Mark cleared his throat. "I said thanks. You really didn't have to do this." Mark paused before adding, "If I were you, I probably wouldn't have." Whizzer smiled softly. Something about it made Mark's stomach flutter. Perhaps it was the realness of the smile. It was so...sincere looking, compared to the other times he had smiled. It made him nervous in a strange way, but happy all the same. He didn't know what to think of that. His sleepy brain decided it was too complicated for now, and the thought left as soon as it came.

"Well, you're welcome. It really isn't a big deal, I was planning on getting something to drink anyway," Whizzer remarked cooly. Mark wished he could act so casual all the time. Whizzer didn't even look like he had to try. "...It's nice to not be alone for once," Whizzer added softly.

Mark smiled and fiddled with his straw. "I'm glad you consider me to be...decent company."

The two fell into a comfortable silence once again. It took longer for them to speak this time, and it was Mark who broke the silence.

He hadn't meant to speak, it was just supposed to be a thought. "Man, it's been so long."

Whizzer, who had previously been examining the contents of his drink, looked up at Mark. "Huh?"

Mark blinked, slowly processing what he said. "What?"

Whizzer leaned forwards and set down his drink, obviously very interested in the direction the conversation was headed. "It's been so long since what?"

Mark chuckled nervously. "I said that out loud?" Whizzer nodded and Mark sighed. Mark hesitated, not entirely sure what he meant by that either before he spoke up. "Well, uh-I just mean it's been so long since I've been to a coffee shop."  
Whizzer seemed to deflate a little at his response, almost as if he was disappointed about something, but Mark supposed that was his mind making things up.

"Oh. Why has it been so long?" Whizzer leaned back, picking up his drink again.

Mark shrugged and directed his gaze to their surroundings. "I worked at one while I was in college, n’ after that I avoided them. I was tired of the smell and noise."

Whizzer nodded a little. "Huh. Then why’d you agree to come?"

Mark thought about it for a minute, then another. "I...don't know. Guess I was just feeling desperate for caffeine." He chuckled awkwardly.

"I'm surprised you're not sick of it," Whizzer remarked. "I sure am," he added.

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you drinking?"

Whizzer took a sip of his drink before replying. "Tea."

Mark nodded slightly, leaning back into his chair. "Ah, alright." Mark fidgeted with his straw for a few moments before pulling out his phone, checking the time and putting it back. "I should probably get home soon." He stood up slowly, as he didn't really want to leave. "I don't want the caffeine to wear off before I get back home."

Whizzer stood up as well. "I should get going too, but let me walk with you," Whizzer said, raising a hand as Mark started to decline. "I don't want you hurting yourself, I don't know how long the coffee will keep you awake."

Mark sighed, frustrated with his generosity. It was strangely contradictory with his almost cheeky personality, not that he didn't appreciate it. He did. He just didn't like the pressure of having to pay someone back for things like this, and it really stressed him out. "Alright, fair enough."

They didn't link arms this time, but Whizzer was still staying very close to him as they walked. He was carrying most of the conversation, rambling about one thing or another. From baseball to photography, throwing in the odd snarky remark. He never seemed to run out of things to say. It was charming.

Mark, meanwhile, was still sipping at what was left of his coffee and examining the busy atmosphere of New York. It was something he saw every day, so it was a bit boring. He never understood why it was romanticized in television and movies, but it felt a little less boring walking around with Whizzer. While not a lot of what he was talking about interested him, like baseball, he somehow managed to make things like that sound interesting. Perhaps he just enjoyed listening to his voice.

"Oh! I saw a baseball game last weekend, and it was the first one I've seen live in a while," Whizzer remarked cheerfully. "Do you go to ball games often?"

Mark scrunched his nose just at the thought. "Nope. I don't really like baseball, it's just so boring."

Whizzer gasped, crossing his arms. "You're kidding, right?" Mark shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee. "Baseball is not boring!" Whizzer exclaimed, obviously perturbed.

"It really is though," Mark countered. "It's literally just a group of men throwing and hitting balls back and forth, and absolutely nothing interesting ever happens." Whizzer scoffed, scrunching up his face in disdain.

"I swear, if you keep talking shit about baseball, I will leave," Whizzer remarked.

Mark snickered before taking another sip of his drink. "You sound like a child, Whizzer." Whizzer rolled his eyes but smiled just slightly.

"And you sound like a boring old man," Whizzer retorted.  
Mark huffed at the insult, feigning offense. "How dare you bad mouth baseball!" He said dramatically. "That's you. That's what you sound like right now."  
"I do not!"  
"Yeah, you do."  
"You're a prick," Whizzer grumbled, but there wasn't any real malice behind his words.

"I know," Mark remarked cheekily. Whizzer snickered, and the conversation died.

It took about 20 minutes to get to Mark's apartment, but Mark couldn't complain. Walking with Whizzer was actually pretty enjoyable. He'd probably choose it over the bus whenever he gets the chance again. Scratch that, if he ever gets the chance to. He wasn't entirely sure why, he had only seen the guy three times now, but he was really hoping this wouldn't be the last time.

"This is the place," Mark remarked, trying his best not to sound too disappointed.

"Hm, pretty nice for an apartment complex." Whizzer glanced around, taking in the surroundings before turning back to Mark, a grin spread across his face. "Let me guess. That office job is boring but cushy?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "That's what most desk jobs are like."

Whizzer shrugged. "I mean, you're not wrong."

Mark tapped his foot uncomfortably. "...So, bye? I guess?" He shuffled hesitantly towards the front door of the building. Whizzer blinked, then seemed to process what he said.

"Oh, yeah." The taller man chuckled nervously. "Bye, I'll...see you around?"

Mark smiled, placing a hand on the doorknob. "Yeah, sure." Mark watched Whizzer smile, wave, and turn on his heels as he left.

Mark turned to the door and was about to open it, when he heard Whizzer abruptly exclaim, "Wait!"  
He turned around to see Whizzer walking back over with his phone in his hand. "Can you give me your phone real quick?"

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Whizzer furrowed his eyebrows, smirking fondly. "I'm trying to give you my number, dumbass." Mark gaped for a second, before swiftly coming to his senses, heat spreading to his face.

"Ah- Okay, here." Mark handed him his phone and watched as Whizzer fiddled it for a few minutes, as he seemed to take a picture of himself. He messed with it a few moments longer before finally handing it back.

He proceeded to then begin typing on his own phone, before looking up at Mark. "Mind if I take a picture of you?"

Mark chuckled nervously. "I mean, you can. I'm not very photogenic though."

Whizzer grinned. "Nonsense, now, look at the camera." Mark snickered at his formalness but complied. "Now, why did the banana go to the hospital?"

Mark furrowed his eyebrows. "I- Pardon-?"

Whizzer waved a hand exasperatedly. "Just go along with it."

Mark shook his head in disbelief. "Alright, why?"

Whizzer beamed giddily from the other side of the phone. "Because he was peeling really bad."

Mark really didn't want to laugh. He really, really didn't. But he couldn't help himself. He heard the click of a picture being taken before he said in between chuckles, "What the hell was that?"

Whizzer examined his phone before smiling triumphantly. "The best pictures are when you get their real smiles. Like, the unintentional ones." Whizzer continued to mess with his phone as he added, "And if horrible jokes are the best way to get them, then so be it."

Mark rolled his eyes, still grinning. "Alright. I really should get going though, and so should you."

Whizzer put his phone back in his pocket, running his other hand through his hair. "Yeah, bye Mark."

Mark placed his hand on the doorknob and opened the door. "Bye, Whizzer."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops so apparently that whole "I'll update sooner next time," thing was a lie. Sorry about that lmao. Anyways, I hope you guys are staying safe inside and washing your hands!

_Marvin tore up the ends of his jacket sleeves, his nerves tying knots in his stomach. He had felt for weeks that something terrible was looming over him and that the other foot was about to drop. And after all his waiting, here it was._

_Charlotte drew in a deep breath before she spoke, clutching her clipboard. "What he has… It’s deadly Marv. It kills." She closed her eyes for a moment, seemingly bracing herself. Marvin tensed up as well. "And it spreads, from- From one man… To another."_

_Marvin drew in a sharp breath, nodding slowly in response as her words settled in. Nestled comfortably in the back of his mind, where they would torment him from now on. It wasn't enough that he was losing Whizzer. He was going to die too._

———

Mark hates his job. But, really, who doesn't? He was just looking for things to complain about at this point.

It typically didn't bother him too much, but the fact that he had woken up feeling a dread that refused to leave him all day didn't help. Which is why Mark was very thankful to be cake-tasting that day with Charlie and Cecilia.

Only moments after knocking on the door, it was answered by Charlie. She quirked an eyebrow, an amused grin spreading on her face. "Cake testing isn't for another half hour," she remarked.

"Yeah, but in the meantime, I can spend time with you two." Mark smiled back at her. Charlie rolled her eyes but stepped aside, letting him in.

Mark glanced around the apartment as he entered, the dread that had been bothering him all day easing away, bit by bit. He could hear the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen, no doubt Cecilia making something. "Hey, Celia!" He called.

"Hey, Mark!" He heard Cecilia call back distractedly.

Their apartment was brighter than his. It always had been. Everything about it is brighter. From the couch cushions to the pictures adorning the wall, everything seemed to be welcoming to whoever walked in. Their apartment's ambiance was also a nice change. There were sounds of life. The indication that it isn't empty, and that none is ever really alone when they are inside. Not in a creepy way, though.

Mark had admitted a long time ago he liked their apartment better than his own. Charlie and Cecilia had claimed that it was just because he was busy and very, very lonely. Mark had retorted that he has Jacob, who visits. They added that they meant he was lonely in the romantic or at the very least the platonic sense. He needed either a partner or a roommate.

Mark had shrugged off the suggestion, claiming he was fine with his life the way it was. Besides, as they said, he was too busy to go out and find new people.

Mark sat down on the couch, Charlie following suit. "So, Mark, how’s life been since I last saw you?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Dull." _Except for yesterday, _he didn't add.

Charlie quirked an eyebrow. "As always?"

Mark sighed dramatically. "As always."

Charlie hummed. "You really need to spice things up a bit, get a hobby or something."

Mark furrowed his brows. "I'm an adult, I don't have time for that."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "You know that's not true," she said. "And, if you get a hobby and spend more time out and about without Jacob or us, you would find something new." Charlie paused for dramatic effect and Mark almost sighed. He knew exactly what was coming. "Or maybe even...someone?"

Mark groaned out loud, rubbing his face as Cecilia poked her head into the living room. "For the last time, I'm fine on my own."

Cecilia plopped down on Charlie's lap, leaning on the other woman as she smiled. "Mark, you may be a grump, but you are almost the most, if not the most, love-centric person I have ever met." Mark rolled his eyes. "You just don't like admitting to your mushy feelings!" The blonde cooed teasingly.

"Fuck off," Mark replied, but the remark had no bite behind it.

Cecilia pouted playfully. "Now, where'd that lovesick boy I met in college go?"

"God, shut up." Mark couldn't help but smile a little though, begrudgingly amused.

Charlie smiled and kissed her fiancée on the cheek sloppily, prompting another giggle from the blonde. "Blegh, you two are gross," Mark said. "Get a room."

Charlie stuck out her tongue childishly. "This is my apartment, I can kiss my future wife whenever I want." She grasped the hand Cecilia's engagement ring was adorning and pecked it. Cecilia laughed, wrapping her arms around her lover's shoulders.

"You just wish you had someone to do this with," she teased, resting her head against Charlie's.

"I swear if you bring up my love life one more time I'm sueing both of you." Mark huffed, crossing his arms again.

"Alright, grumpy pants." Cecilia pulled herself away from Charlie, much to the other woman's dismay. Cecilia began to hop away stating, "I'll be back in a sec! I need to check on my brownies!"

Mark quirked an eyebrow. "She's making sweets? Right now?"

Charlie sighed, leaning back. "She's nervous, and you know how she gets."

Mark nodded, he had been a victim to many of Cecilia's poorly cooked and stress filled delicacies. He could only imagine how many Charlie has to eat on a daily basis.

The rest of the half-hour was uneventful. They talked about nothing in particular as the time ticked by. Thankfully, Charlie and Mark were able to avoid having to try the brownies, because even Cecilia could tell they were burnt beyond repair.

Afterward, the three left the apartment and Mark was made responsible for driving them to the bakery. They had chosen a bakery that was a part of a larger kosher catering industry, and from what Mark had researched, it was promising. He also knew that Charlie and Cecilia were putting a lot of hope in this one company and that they didn't really have a backup plan. Here goes nothing.

\---

It definitely came through in every way possible. The people working there were delightful. And according to Charlie and Cecilia's exclamations, the cake samples were delicious. Mark would probably be enjoying himself more if he was able to get out of his own head.

It was something Mark had suffered with ever since he started having weird dreams. Even though he could remember almost nothing from the dream itself, typically only a feeling would remain, and it would bug him all day.

It was starting to get out of hand, and he probably needed to see a psychiatrist. But, he hated having to talk about his feelings. Always have. He had a psychiatrist a few years ago, and she helped, but Mark eventually ran out of time to spend there. It wasn't something he wanted to spend money on anymore. He knew he should, he had a lot of shit he still needed to work through. And, he had more time nowadays.

"Mark, what do you think about the dark chocolate?"

Mark nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked back at Charlie, who was now looking at him expectantly, then back at the still untouched dark chocolate cake sample.

"Right, uh, it's pretty nice, " he stammered before taking a bite. He had really just been stabbing it repeatedly with his fork while he was thinking. Completely forgetting that he was here to try cake and not to have a crisis.

Charlie sighed while Cecilia chuckled.

"Welcome back to earth, " Cecilia teased, a grin on her face. While Cecilia was feeling playful, Charlie seemed to be getting frustrated.

"Mark, I love you so much but, please stop zoning out." She narrowed her eyes. "Did you not sleep last night or something?"

Mark shook his head, tapping a rhythm onto his plate with a fork. "No, I actually slept better than usual." Despite the upsetting dream I had, he decided not to add.

"How many hours?" Charlie queried as Cecilia rolled her eyes.

"I dunno," Mark paused, thinking. "Like, 5? 6?"

Charlie sighed. "You know you should be getting more. 8 hours is optimal."

Mark waved his fork in a vague gesture. "Yeah, yeah, doc."

Charlie grunted and Cecilia snorted, but before Charlie could hit him with a witty retort, her phone rang. Mark watched her fish her phone out of her pocket and answer it.

She stood up and stepped a few paces away after greeting whoever was on the other end with, "Charlie Horowitz speaking."  
Mark assumed it was a professional call or something similar so he directed his attention to the cake samples still left untouched on the table.

Just as he was leaning forward to grab what looked like a delicious slice of vanilla cake, Charlie came back and sat down with a dejected sigh.

"What's wrong, love?" Cecilia asked, leaning against her fiancée.

"Our uh- Wedding photographer, " Charlie began, rubbing her face. "They canceled."

Cecilia frowned, tapping the table. "Damn." Her eyebrows drew together. "Well, at least it's not last minute. We still have like, what? A month or two? We should be fine."

Mark was about to reply with his sympathy when he himself was interrupted by his phone. "Oh, sorry- One second." Mark snatched his phone out of his pocket to see who was calling him. He quirked an eyebrow, reading the contact name 'Whizzer'.' He answered and greeted as casually as he could. "Hello?"

"Mark! Hey." He heard Whizzer exclaim from the other end. Mark grinned slightly and tried to ignore the not so subtle confused looks he was getting from Charlie and Cecilia.

"So, Mark, I know this is a bit out of the blue, but are you…free right now?"

Mark quirked an eyebrow. "No, sorry. I'm cake-testing with my friends."

Luckily enough, Whizzer didn't sound too disappointed. "Oh, the ones that are getting married, right?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah." He fidgeted with his fork as an idea struck him. "Hey, can I ask you something, Whizzer?" He turned back to Charlie and Cecilia, who both had grins on their faces.

"Yeah, sure. What's up?" He heard Whizzer reply.

"My friend's wedding photographer recently canceled on them, and I was wondering if you would be willing to step in?"

Whizzer was silent for a moment before he finally answered. "Hell yeah, man! Just tell me the dates and I'll see if it'll work out." Mark smiled at his enthusiasm.

He explained the dates and, luckily enough, Whizzer was free. They talked a bit about the time when Whizzer said he had to get going.

"I'll call you later to further discuss plans, alright?"

Mark nodded despite the fact that Whizzer couldn't see him. "Yeah, alright."

As Mark said goodbye and hung up, he noticed with some disdain that Charlie and Cecilia were still grinning. "What?"

Charlie's grin only grew wider. "So, you got that Whizzer guy's number?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Yes, platonically. Completely platonically."

Cecilia chimed in. "When? Cause you said you didn't get it at lunch last week."

Mark rolled his eyes and leaned onto his hand. "I got it yesterday."

Charlie quirked an eyebrow. "What happened yesterday?" Mark paused, debating what things he should tell them and what he shouldn't if he didn't want to be a victim of their relentless teasing. He eventually came to the conclusion that no matter what he said at this point they would tease him.

"I fell asleep at the bus stop and missed my bus." He tried to ignore the giggle that came from Cecilia. "He found me, woke me up, and got me a coffee." He paused to take another bite of cake. "Then he walked me back to my apartment and gave me his number."

Charlie hummed thoughtfully, smile softening. "That's actually pretty sweet of him."

Cecilia nodded, linking arms with her fiancée. "I can't believe you went on a coffee date with a handsome guy and didn't tell us, Mark."

Mark sputtered, face reddening. "I- It wasn't- It wasn't a date!" The two women only giggled in response as Mark groaned in disdain.

"I was just kidding, bud," Cecilia remarked, a mischievous smirk on her face.

Mark only narrowed his eyes, returning to eating the slice of cake still in front of him.  
Charlie and Cecilia fell back into whatever conversation they had been having before, while Mark got back to thinking.

He couldn't remember much from last night's dream, but he did remember the coldness and cleanliness of a hospital. So he assumed that combination meant nothing good.

He still wasn't that on board with the idea of therapy, but he still kinda wished he had someone to talk to. And the more he thought about it, he slowly realized there was someone he could theoretically talk to about it. Supposedly free of charge, too.

After the cake-testing was done, Mark headed home. He said his farewell to the wives to-be before shutting the door behind him and returning to the uncomfortable silence his empty apartment greeted him with.

Mark worried his bottom lip with his teeth, slowly pulling his phone out of his pocket.  
Mark hadn't talked to him in a "Therapy-Esque" situation since college, but he was a nice guy. Too nice sometimes. He would probably be more than willing to talk to him.

Mark sighed, scrolling through his contacts and clicking on one, pressing the call button.  
It rang a few times before it was answered.

"Hey Mark," greeted a cheerful voice.

"Hey, Menachem," Mark replied awkwardly, sitting down on his couch.

"What's up, man?" He heard Menachem ask. "Do you need to cancel having Jacob over or something?"

Mark shook his head despite the fact that, once again, he was on a phone call and couldn't be seen by the other person. "No, I uh, just wanted to ask for a favor."

Menachem was silent for a second before asking, "Sure thing, what is it?" Despite his cheery tone, he sounded slightly suspicious.

Mark almost sighed. He supposed that would never go away. It was justified, as Mark doesn't ask him for things often.

He paused for a long moment, trying to force the words out. "I- I need to talk to someone about something that's been troubling me. And...I thought about who I could talk to. And you're a psychiatrist so, I thought, uh," Mark explained awkwardly, waving around his free hand.

Menachem went silent again and Mark began to worry. Shit, this was a dumb idea, he decided. He almost took it back when Menachem spoke up.

"Yeah, that's fine dude! Just uh, come to my office after hours tomorrow. We can talk about whatever's bugging you," Menachem said.

Mark sighed, relieved. He didn't know why he was worried. That guy wanted every excuse he could get to psychoanalyze Mark. Why would he turn down this opportunity? "Alright, see you tomorrow then."

"Yup!" Menachem hung up.


	5. Chapter 5

_"I'll make you well."_

_Mendel grinned, and Trina wrapped her arm tighter around her husband's, patting it reassuringly._

_Marvin watched as Whizzer's brows furrowed._  
_"Right," Whizzer said, glancing at Marvin for a moment. Marvin only gave him a weak smile in response as he leaned forward._

_"He means well," he whispered, before leaning back again. He felt Cordelia's hand rest on his shoulder and he turned to her. She smiled comfortingly as if she knew just how much his thoughts were racing at that moment. Marvin smiled back before turning back to Whizzer as he felt him grab his hand. He wasn't looking at Marvin, instead, he was still watching Mendel and Trina as they explained why they were late._

_Marvin intertwined their fingers and sighed, brows furrowed. He slowly ran his thumb over his lover's knuckles, trying to ignore how frail Whizzer's hand felt in his own._

_At that moment Marvin really wished what Mendel had said was true. He would take anything._

_He just wanted Whizzer to be alright._

———

Mark shifted from foot to foot as he waited outside of Menachem's office. He had begun to regret ever coming as soon as he hung up the phone. At the same time though, he knew it was probably for the best. He was desperate for someone to talk to and Menachem had already listened once so, why not now? If anyone had any idea whatsoever it might be him. “Might” being the keyword there. And Mark typically didn't see the odds as in his favor.

The sour mood he was developing wasn't helped by the motivational posters plastered outside of Menachem's office. They felt like they were taunting him, and thus doing the opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. And knowing Menachem, he had a feeling there were a lot more in the office itself.

The lobby itself, despite the posters, was relatively inviting. Mark supposed that was the point. You come to a psychiatrist for assistance, so the building should make you feel comfortable. Of course, Mark wasn't. But he was always very contradictory, so it was probably pure cynicism that was keeping him from enjoying the atmosphere.

The carpeted floor was a nice shade of desaturated blue and the couches and chairs looked cozy. Mark was much too nervous to sit down though, which was exactly why he was stood right outside Menachem's office. Unlike the motivational posters, the few paintings in the room were nice. And the fish tank in the far corner would probably be far nicer if it had any fish.

Suddenly, the door opened, and standing in front of Mark was the infamous, dopey, curly-haired, sweater vest clad, psychiatrist himself. Menachem Weisenbachfeld.

Mark met him in college when he started working at a coffee shop. He was his coworker and reluctant friend. Mark could only ignore his chattering for so long and Menachem has always been a persistent man.

He hadn't changed much, Mark realized. He even wore the same clothes then he wore now. His curly hair was only slightly shorter and more well-kempt. And Mark knew for certain that his hair wouldn't be that well-kempt if he wasn't married to Trinity. Mark could remember when they were dating, and how Trinity had frequently fussed over Mark's hair. Something he had found insufferable at the time.

"Heya, Mark!" The shorter man greeted, a wide smile on his face as he stepped aside. "Welcome to my office."

Mark offered a weak smile in return. "Hi, Menachem."

He turned to enter the office and his previous assumption about motivational posters was spot-on. There were several posters on every wall, and some were so old they were sort of wilting at the edges. A few of those even sparked a bit of nostalgia. How he was able to recognize posters he saw more than 10 years ago but couldn't remember what day it was every other day was beyond him.

On the far left end of the room was a desk. Adorning the desk was a bumblebee clock and a lamp with a lampshade so terribly patterned, it rivaled Menachem's sweaters.

On the opposite end of the room was a comfortable looking baby blue chair and a cozy robin egg blue couch next to it.

Menachem walked over and plopped down on the cozy-looking chair and waved Mark over. Mark complied, settling on the far end of the robin egg blue couch.

It felt strange to see him doing this professionally when he could remember him trying to "practice" being a psychiatrist back in college. With, of course, Mark as his "patient." It is something Mark still isn't sure how he was talked into doing with him. But it came in handy. He hadn't been a great pseudo psychiatrist, but he had listened. And that's something Mark had really needed. Mark wasn't sure if he would have had the nerve to break up with Trinity all those years ago if Menachem and Charlie hadn't told him how shitty he had been for leading her on.

Mark's train of thought was interrupted as Menachem spoke up. "So, what brings you to my office?" He asked, twirling a pen.

Mark rolled his eyes at the formality in his voice, leaning back into the couch. He was silent for a while. He was starting to regret coming here at all, but there wasn't really any backing out now. He could avoid the subject for a little bit though. "How's Trinity?"

Menachem seemed a little startled by the very sudden change in the subject. "Uh, she's fine. Busy as all hell since the holidays are getting closer."

Mark blinked. He hadn't even thought about that. "Shit, you're right. It's already December. Holy shit."

Menachem nodded. "Yeah, catches me off guard every year."

Mark hummed in agreement. Speaking of holidays, he probably needed to start thinking about Hannukah gifts soon. What would Jacob want? He already has like, 3 different chess sets so Mark probably wouldn't get away with buying another one. Maybe something baseball-related? Baseball season wouldn't be starting up again until after winter, but Jacob would probably appreciate some new cleats or something...

Mark's train of thought faded as he noticed Menachem was staring at him expectantly. Mark sighed, staring at his shoes. He knew it was stupid. He came here to talk and now he was chickening out. He couldn't help it though. Mark sighed again, this time louder before finally speaking up. "You remember those dreams I told you about a long time ago?" Mark had initially told Menachem about one or two of his dreams that had been especially reoccurring way back in college.

Menachem had always thought they were probably some sort of stress or anxiety induced dreams, and Mark had started to believe that. For a little while.

Menachem smiled, pleased with himself for getting Mark to get to the point. Something Mark was definitely an expert at avoiding when he wanted to. Then his expression turned thoughtful as he tapped his pen on his chin. "Uh...yeah, actually. Yup, I remember those, what about them?" He asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Mark worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "Well, I may have not told you...everything about them...back then."

Menachem chuckled. "You not telling me everything? I'm shocked," Menachem remarked, sarcasm lacing his tone. Something you might not expect from someone who seemed so sunshiney. But that was something Mark had become used to.

Mark huffed out a laugh, redirecting his gaze to the posters on the wall. He felt knots begin to tie themselves in his stomach. "Yeah. Um...so..." Mark breathed deeply, running his hand over his face and through his hair. "God. So, like, they’ve been a thing since I was… Fourteen, I think?"

Menachem nodded slowly, seemingly only to indicate that he was still listening to Mark the Bumbling Fool.

"And uh, they're all different scenarios. Some more… Upsetting than others, though I haven't been able to fully remember them in a long time. And recently I met someone who looks like someone from those… Dreams."

Menachem's eyebrows raised. "Huh. That's strange."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Yeah. It is."

Menachem gestured vaguely. "Would you mind going into detail?"

Mark furrowed his brows and huffed. "I was getting there."

He shifted in his seat, gnawing at his bottom lip. Once again procrastinating saying anything. "His name is uh… Whizzer."

Menachem chuckled, his expression turning incredulous. "Whizzer?"

Mark scrunched up his nose. "Yes, I know, he has a weird name, " he said, trying to avoid having to listen to Menachem go into a similar state of disbelief as Charlie and Cecilia had done.

Menachem nodded, seeming to try to suppress any further giggles so Mark could go on.

"Anyways," Mark began decisively before his voice returned to sounding hesitant. He might as well bite the bullet. "He looks like, erm, the guy in those dreams. Y’know, the one that made me worry about… My relationship with Trinity, at the time."

Menachem blinked a few times, confused. It took a while before realization seemed to settle in. "Oh, wow, that must be… Awkward, " Menachem said, fiddling with the buttons on his sweater vest.

Mark rubbed his face. "It was." He tapped his feet on the floor a few times. "Not so much anymore. We're acquaintances. Maybe friends? I think?"

Menachem quirked an eyebrow. "Friends as in like, friends with benefits or...?"

Mark flushed a vibrant red and tensed. Where in the name of fuck did he get that assumption from? "Nope! Normal friends! Completely platonic!" Mark exclaimed frantically.

Menachem threw his hands up. "Alright, alright, just askin'." He leaned back in his chair, beginning to click his pen repeatedly. "That is uh, quite the coincidence. I guess." He looked back at Mark, eyebrows drawn together. Mark avoided his gaze, still trying to fend off the burning in his face. "Is this really what you wanted to talk to me about, Mark?" he asked, sounding a little disappointed

Mark frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. "Yes, it is, " he replied, his voice pointed.

Menachem merely hummed in response, glancing around the room. He was silent for a long moment, leaving Mark to fidget and get nervous in silence.

"Look, man," Menachem said suddenly, turning to Mark. "I just...I'm not sure this is something you should be worrying about," he explained, turning towards Mark. "Is it weird? Yeah. But um, it's probably nothing. Weird stuff like that happens all the time."

Mark could tell he was trying to be reassuring but it wasn't working. If anything it was doing the exact opposite.

"Yeah, I thought that too. But I knew shit about this guy before he told me! You have to admit that's fucking weird!" Mark exclaimed, starting to get frustrated.

Menachem's eyebrows raised. "Pardon?"

"I knew the guy's name before he told me. I blurted it out at the same time he was telling me!" Menachem looked like he was about to say something but Mark cut him off. "And! I knew he was a photographer before he told me! And, that he was from Omaha!"

Menachem rose a hand. "Look, Mark, calm down. I'm sure there is a completely logical explanation for it all?" Menachem's voice rose into a question at the end of his statement, showing he wasn't completely sure of what he was saying. Not an unusual occurrence. Mark had a feeling that Menachem was never completely sure what he was saying.

Mark leaned back, his head in his hands. "Sorry, I just- Fuck. I don't know what the hell is going on."

Menachem shrugged. "It's fine. But as I said, there is probably a logical explanation for all of this."

Mark turned to him, eyebrows furrowing. "Like what?"

Menachem opened his mouth a few times as if to say something but changing his mind every time. After a while, he shrugged.

Mark groaned. Menachem obviously didn't know what was going on either and he was wasting his time. Not that he had much to do, he would rather do anything other than waste his time talking about this.

He stood up and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Whatever, Menachem, I'm… I’m just gonna go."

Menachem nodded tentatively, a slight frown on his face. He seemed, for lack of a better term, disappointed. He wasn't the only one. "Alright. Bye, Mark."

Mark didn't bother replying. Instead, he waved as he walked out of the room.

Right as he was in the doorway he heard Menachem exclaim, "Hey, uh, just remember Mark. You can come here anytime!"

Mark nodded. "Alright," he said and stepped out.

Mark groaned, rubbing his face with his hands as soon as he shut the door behind him. It seemed Menachem was of no real assistance, as he had feared he would be. Mark supposed that, in that way, he was the exact same man he knew in college.

Mark supposed he should have expected this. And despite the frustration that had begun to boil over, he also supposed Menachem was trying.

Mark would be the first to admit that he sounded kind of batshit back there, and Menachem is a pretty logical man when he wants to be. It made sense for him to grasp for a logical explanation. But Mark wasn't sure if there was one.

———

Mark shut the door to his apartment behind him, a soft click resounding in the empty room. He huffed, frustration still boiling in the bottom of his stomach. He wasn't just back to square one, he had never left it.

But a part of him wanted to believe Menachem was right. That it was a coincidence and that there was an entirely logical explanation for him knowing shit about Whizzer. But even if that were the case, what the hell is that logical explanation? Mark couldn't think of one, that was for sure.

He headed into the kitchen, deciding to fix himself a glass of water to calm down. Something Charlie had advised him to do quite a while ago whenever he got too upset.

The apartment felt suffocatingly quiet. He hated it. It was something he could handle most days, but often his thoughts are too loud. And they were amplified by his empty apartment. He filled his glass and took a sip.

Mark felt that it was unfair, he always had, that he was stuck with these weird dreams. He was frustrated that he couldn't even get any relief even when he is unconscious. God knows the waking world isn't all that kind.

He lifted his glass to his lips, taking a large sip of the water before pulling it away and sighing into the glass. He didn't want to think about it, but after Whizzer showed up about a week ago it got harder to ignore it all. Whizzer was so similar to the guy in his dreams, who just so happened to be the only person who he can ever remember.

He knew there were sometimes other people. But even if he was lucky enough to remember that, he could never conjure up an image of what they looked like in his head.

Mark strode into his living room and sat down on the couch, reaching for a pillow in the corner of it. It was pastel rainbow colored with the words "Love is Blind" embroidered in white in the middle. It had been a gift Cecilia gave him his last year of college. She had given it to him as a "Congratulations for coming out," gift.

Mark turned on the TV, and the previous silence fled the room.

He fiddled with the embroidery and sipped his glass of water and listened to the TV, beginning to feel a pleasant wave of calm wash over him.

This was short-lived though as another large sound filled the room.

Mark's phone blared in his pocket and he grabbed it, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. This confusion turned to a soft smile after he saw the screen though. Presented on the screen in front of him was Whizzer's contact icon.

Mark quickly answered.

"Hi, Whizzer. What's up?" He asked, trying to play it cool as he set his glass of water down.

"Hey, sorry for not calling you again yesterday. I was busy." Mark could hear Whizzer shuffling through what sounded like papers or files on the other end. "It was supposed to be an easy day and I had planned on getting off early but, alas, shit happened."

Whizzer sighed. "But is there any way we could schedule a meet up with um...Charlie and Cecilia? I feel like that would be the best way for me to get more information on the wedding."

Mark tapped his fingers on the couch cushions. "Uh, yeah, I'll just have to ask. When are you free?"

Mark heard more shuffling and some indiscernible mumbling before Whizzer replied. "Sorry about that. 'M a lil' busy," Whizzer apologized. "Anyways, I should be free tomorrow afternoon and the day after tomorrow afternoon, and uh...I'm free all Saturday so...any of those should be fine."

Mark nodded. "Alright, I'll text and ask Char about uh, all this." He heard a vague noise of confirmation from Whizzer's end as he pulled the phone away from his ear to text Charlie.

A quick text and a response from Charlie and Mark was lifting his phone back up. "Tomorrow evening is best," he said formally.

He heard some more paper shuffling. "Oh, alrighty then. Just, text me the address and time when you can and I'll be there."

Mark nodded even though he knew well enough that Whizzer could not see him and that he was nodding at an empty apartment. He ran his finger over the pillow's embroidery again. "Okay, um, see you tomorrow then?"

He heard Whizzer chuckle. He had a nice laugh, Mark realized, but he dismissed the thought.

After a moment of more paper shuffling, Whizzer replied, "Yeah, see you then."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, in light of current events I wanted to make myself very clear.
> 
> I am in support of the BLM movement and always will be, and am currently trying to do better in my activism on social media. I encourage that you do as well. This is an incredibly important topic that hasn't been brought to the light properly in a while, and hopefully, it will stay in the light for a long time to come. Anyways I hope everyone is taking care of themselves right now considering how stressful everything is currently. In conclusion, black lives matter and acab.
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy the following chapter :>

_"God, I love you guys,"_

_Marvin blurted out, his grip on Whizzer's hand tightening. Charlotte and Cordelia beamed as Whizzer smiled softly, running a frail thumb over Marvin's knuckles._

_"Love you too, Marv," Cordelia said playfully._

_"What she said." Charlotte wrapped an arm around Marvin's shoulders while Whizzer chuckled._

_"We're quite the unlikely bunch, huh?" Marvin leaned against Charlotte, keeping his firm, yet gentle, grip on Whizzer's hand._

_Whizzer snorted, rolling his eyes before another soft smile spread across his face. "You can say that again."_

_Cordelia chuckled, her blonde curls bouncing with her. "Well, I think that's a good thing."_

_Marvin paused before nodding as Charlotte replied wistfully, "I suppose it is."_

_The sweet moment was interrupted by Whizzer falling into a coughing fit. Marvin immediately leaped into action, grasping Whizzer's shoulder to steady him. He heard Cordelia's breath catch and Charlotte sigh._

_As soon as the coughing receded, Marvin picked up the glass of water on the table next to the bed and handed it to Whizzer. At first, Whizzer attempted to decline, letting out a feeble, "Marvin, I'm fine, " before giving in._

_As Marvin watched him drink, he leaned back and sighed. A silence settled over the four, their sentiments and smiles replaced with the occasional catch of breath and nervous glances. Nervous not because they didn't know what was coming. Rather, the nerves came from a place of waiting._

_The fear and dread that one felt watching someone they love slowly wither, fearing the inevitable._

———

Mark sat up in bed with a groan, his heart beating so hard he could feel it in his head. A pool of dread was forming in his stomach, and for a moment it felt as if his world was crashing and burning around him. He sat frozen, taking in shallow breaths.

The moment passed after a few seconds, as it always did. And all that was left behind was the aforementioned pool of dread. Something that Mark knew would be sticking with him for the rest of the day, unfortunately.

Of course, this was all made frustrating due to the fact that he couldn't remember why he was upset. Of course, there were a few things he could remember. A hospital, some friends, Whizzer. But Whizzer was almost always the only clear part of any of his dreams. So that wasn't a surprise nor an accomplishment. He wished he could remember the details. Less fog.

Mark dragged himself out of bed, reaching to his nightstand and slipping his glasses on. He brushed some of his tangled hair out of his face as he stumbled out of the room.

He slept alright last night. Obviously, his dream was shit. But for once he had stayed asleep. He didn't lay awake periodically throughout the night. Falling asleep only to be dragged back into the dream that had woken him up in the first place. The dream still sucked, but at least he would be able to function later.

Speaking of functioning, he needed some coffee. Mark entered the kitchen and headed straight for his coffee brewer. He began to make some coffee, gathering up the coffee grounds and water, his mind racing the entire time. Finally, he leaned against the cold counter as it began to brew.

He rubbed his face and ran a hand through his curly mess of hair. He wished he could understand why he felt the world was going to end. It wasn't fair that he didn't get to remember his dreams when they left him feeling this shitty. The world could at least give him that. But it didn't, and that was the infuriating part.

He was so tired of feeling this way. His constant inner complaining was starting to get dull, even to him.

He furrowed his brows, rubbing his face and trying to focus. He had tried to remember his dreams a few times before, but it never worked. It couldn't hurt to try again. He had at least a minute until his coffee would be done and he would have to get on with the rest of the day.

He tried to focus first on the things he already could remember and try to expand on that. A hospital, friends, Whizzer. Or, well, dream Whizzer or whatever. Alright, they were in a hospital. Why? He couldn't remember. Why couldn't he remember why? What did his friends look like? What were their names? Why was Whizzer there? The frustration that had been building up the past few weeks finally began to boil over. Why couldn't he fucking remember this shit?

Something seemed to click and his head began to buzz so immensely he didn't hear the brewer beeping beside him. His breath caught and he reached one hand back on the counter and one on his head as it started to ache.

He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands and sliding down against his counter onto his floor. "Fu- Fuck, ow."

After a while, the buzzing and pain receded, leaving Mark feeling more clear-headed than before. Which was strange, since it was still 6 am. More importantly, though, he was left with the memory of the dream, clear as day. Well almost clear as day.

They were in the hospital because Whizzer was sick and dying. He and his friends, whom he still couldn't remember the names or faces of, were terrified. So they tried to change the subject by stating how much they cared for each other instead. It was all for nothing though, in the end.

Furthermore, Mark felt as if he should have known these things all along. Like it was a memory he thought he would never lose but he did and he felt so stupid for forgetting.

Which was...unsettling, to say the least. What the hell did that mean? Was it actually a memory? How was that possible? As far as he was concerned he hadn't known Whizzer before now. Let alone been that close to him. He could still feel the affection and worry he had been feeling in the dream.

The buzzing returned and scattered his train of thought. He groaned, leaning back against the counter as he waited for it to recede. After a while, his mind finally cleared; and the first noise to greet him was the incessant beeping of the coffee machine. Mark sighed. Evidently, he shouldn't try to think about it too hard.

Mark stood up, gripping onto the counter to steady himself. He grabbed the coffee pot and placed it down on the counter. He reached up into the cupboard, snatching up a mug and pouring some of the coffee into it.

Luckily enough, he didn't burn his hand this time. Instead, he was able to put the coffee pot back and enjoy some of his freshly brewed caffeine. Well, enjoy it as much as someone who was having a crisis could. It was a miracle the coffee didn't spill on him due to how much his hands were shaking.

He wanted to think about it. To try and figure out what all this meant. But he also knew it would only get interrupted by that buzzing feeling. It was pointless, he could even feel a tiny bit of buzzing just thinking about rethinking it. Christ, he needed a distraction.

It was only a few minutes later he heard a loud ding come from his phone in the other room. He sighed, shakily placing the mug down and walking back to his bedroom.

There on his nightstand was his phone, still lit up with the notification. As he picked it up he realized it was a message. A message from Whizzer.

_Hey, totally forgot to ask about what time I need to be there_

_I mean, I know I need to be there after work but I would like an exact time_

Mark chuckled, sitting down on the bed.

_Right, well Charlie said she won't be back until 6 so sometime around 6:30 would be best most likely._

_Alrighty then_

_what's for dinner?_

_Well, spaghetti is Ceci's best so Char will tell her to make that._

_K thanks old man_

Mark rolled his eyes, a smile spreading on his face. Despite his still shaking hands, he felt a wave of calm settling over him, his last-minute breakdown almost forgotten. It was weird to think that it was this easy for him to relax from something that almost had him fall onto the floor.

_I'm pretty sure I'm not that much older than you._

_Whatever_

_Anyways I should get going I've gotta get to work_

_See ya later_

Shoot. Right, Work. Mark also had work, and if he didn't hurry up he wouldn't make it on time.

He hurriedly got up and started to get ready. He didn't have time for the god damn dream crisis right now. He had work to do.

———

Mark tapped his foot on the ground, gnawing his bottom lip. His nerves were frayed and he wasn't sure why. Whizzer was just meeting Charlie and Cecilia. For professional reasons at that.

So why was Mark so nervous?

Was he worried about Whizzer's reaction to Cecilia's cooking? Maybe. It wasn't the best. But Charlie would likely warn him about it and knowing Whizzer he'll be more amused than anything.

That's a funny thing to think about. 'Knowing Whizzer.' He doesn't know Whizzer. Not really. Hell, he doesn't even know his favorite color. Wait. No. It's mint green. But it isn't like he actually got that from Whizzer. That was the weird thing that made it so he knew shit about him. He hasn't actually learned much from Whizzer himself. He's only talked to him a few times and seen him a few more times in his dreams. If that was who he was.

If Menachem was right, he wasn't and it was a coincidence. But they were so similar. What else could explain it?

Maybe that was why he was so nervous. Having to see Whizzer again after last night's dream would probably be pretty uncomfortable. Considering he could now remember him withering away in a hospital bed. The thought of that on its own made his heart skip a beat and an ache flare-up in his chest.

"Hey, Mark."

Mark nearly jumped out of his skin and looked up. Standing in front of him was Whizzer, a teasing grin on his face. His grey bomber jacket complimented his mint button-down and black high waisted skinny jeans. His hair was done-up as usual, in a way that must have at least taken an hour. "I see you’re wearing the same red jacket as always."

Mark huffed. "You do know this is supposed to be a casual dinner, right?" Mark asked, raising a brow. That wasn't to say he didn't like how Whizzer looked. He definitely did, who wouldn't? It was a plain fact. Whizzer is attractive and therefore always looks good. But he wasn't going to let Whizzer get away with that jab at Mark's choice in fashion.

Whizzer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, maybe to you." Whizzer tousled Mark's hair, causing the latter to scoff and step away, his face warm. "But to me this is professional. First impressions are important, y'know?"

Mark snorted. "Char and Ceci wouldn't care if you came over in a t-shirt and sweats."

Whizzer hummed. "Well, if they can put up with your clothing I wouldn't be too surprised if that were true."

Mark rolled his eyes again. "Is that all you came here to do? Insult my clothes?"

Whizzer's teasing grin widened. "Nah. But it's fun." He wrapped an arm around Mark's shoulders. "Now, would you mind showing me the way?"

Mark huffed, rolling his eyes. And, despite the butterflies now fluttering rapidly in his stomach, he didn't pull away. "If you insist. Their apartment is right next to mine, so it isn't much of a walk."

Whizzer snickered. "Well, what are we waiting for then?"

Their walk to Char and Ceci's apartment mainly consisted of light bickering. Something Mark felt strangely used to, despite the fact he hadn't known Whizzer for long. Supposedly.

But before Mark could return to what felt like was an endless cycle of being confused about Whizzer's existence in his life and whether it had actually been more than a few weeks, they reached the apartment.

"This is the place," Mark said, reaching forward to knock on the door. He had barely reached it when it swung open. On the other side was Cecilia, a wide grin on her face.

She was practically bouncing. "Mark! Hi!"

She greeted cheerily. Mark was used to Cecilia's cheery attitude, but he could practically feel waves of excitement radiating off of her. She turned to Whizzer, her curls bouncing as she spoke. "And you're Whizzer, right?" She held out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Cecilia."

Whizzer shook it, an amused smirk on his face. "Yeah, I'm Whizzer."

Somehow, Cecilia's grin widened. "Well, it's nice to meet you!" She chirped before stepping aside. "Now, come on in."

Whizzer walked in and Mark followed suit. Mark turned to Cecilia as she shut the door behind them. "Damn, Ceci, all I get is a hi?" Mark asked, smiling.

Ceci rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

Charlie piped up from the living room, drawing the other three's attention. "Yeah, shut up Mark." She stood up, setting her phone down on the coffee table and brushing off her trousers. She strode over, holding out a hand. "I'm Charlie. It's a pleasure to meet you, Whizzer."

Whizzer shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you too." He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. "So, I was told there would be food?" He said jokingly.

Ceci grinned. "Yup! I'm making spaghetti, and it should be almost done. Just gimme a minute." She disappeared into the kitchen with her usual bounce in her step.

Charlie turned to Mark. "I'm surprised nothing started burning while she was waiting for you guys to arrive." She smiled fondly. "She was waiting right next to the door like a puppy."

Mark chuckled. "That explains why I wasn't even able to knock." He glanced at Whizzer who seemed to be admiring the decor.

Charlie nodded and Whizzer snickered softly, turning back to them. "Anyhow," Charlie began, suddenly becoming serious. "Whizzer, do you have any photo references? Or a portfolio of some sort?"

Whizzer nodded, pulling out his phone. "Yeah, of course," he said, his voice becoming oddly business-like. Mark was used to hearing that tone from Charlie, but it felt strange coming from Whizzer.

"Alright, uh, good. Sorry, this is a little last-minute by the way," Charlie said. "We only have a few months left, I'm grateful you accepted the offer." She leaned over as Whizzer pulled something up on his phone and stepped forward to show her.

"Here's some of my uh, portfolio. I've already done a few weddings. Those are luckily some of my best," Whizzer said as Charlie scrolled through Whizzer's phone.

"Oh wow," Charlie said, eyebrows raising. This immediately piqued Mark's interest. But as soon as he leaned over to try and see what they were looking at, the conversation was cut short by an excited exclamation from Cecilia.

Whizzer pulled his phone back. "I'll show you some more in a second."

———

"So, what's the wedding venue?"  
Whizzer asked, his voice muffled by the food still in his mouth.

This prompted a disgusted exclamation from Mark to chew his food before he spoke followed by a giggle and an eye roll from Cecilia and Charlie respectively.

The conversation up until now had been mainly about Whizzer's portfolio. Which is, in simple terms, impressive. Mark had mainly invited Whizzer to be the photographer because it was convenient, and now he was glad he did it merely because Whizzer is incredibly talented.

"Well, we didn't want to deal with too much traveling so we're staying in New York," Cecilia began. "Despite the fact that I would have loved to go to Hawaii." She sighed dramatically.

Mark laughed. "Yeah, no way in hell."

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "We've booked 'The Foundry'" she said, exaggerating her voice.

"It's not too far away and very pretty so we were sold practically as soon as we saw it." Charlie shrugged, smiling.

Mark sighed. "I thought that terrace place was pretty nice but there was no way I was going to be able to change their minds," he explained with faux resentment.

"Damn, that ain't a cheap venue." Whizzer propped his head upon his hand.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, but it's worth it, I think." She grinned. "This is a pretty goddamn special day."

Whizzer shrugged. "You got me there." He turned to Mark. "So I'm a bit curious, what's your role in all of this?"

Mark blinked, a little taken aback. "Um, I basically just help them make decisions." He tapped his fork on his now half-empty plate. "If they can't decide on something I'm there to, uh, mediate."

Cecilia leaned over and bumped shoulders with Mark. "Don't downplay yourself too much, Marky boy," she cooed. "He also helps with managing some of the expenses." She grinned, eyes twinkling. "And he's good company."

"Oh shut up," Mark huffed, elbowing Cecilia who squeaked in response. Whizzer and Charlie laughed and Mark couldn't help but preen himself a little at making Whizzer laugh. He tried not to think about that too hard.

"He's also my shoshbin, " Charlie explained. 

Whizzer nodded.

Mark sipped his water. Yeah, and I still gotta get her a nice gift for the wedding." He leaned back in his chair. "I don't get how my following you two around isn't gift enough considering I'm 'such good company, '" he joked, prompting a giggle from Cecilia.

"Cecilia's words, not mine," Charlie quipped. Whizzer cackled while Mark rolled his eyes.

"Ungrateful," he huffed.

"Yeah, babe, that's rude! He's sensitive!" Ceci reached over, ruffling Mark's hair. He grunted in response but allowed her to ruffle his hair until she pulled away.

He was in the middle of re-smoothing his hair when Whizzer piped up again.

"That reminds me," he began. "Is this going to be a very traditional wedding, or...?"

Charlie shook her head. "No, not really." She turned to Cecilia. "We wanted to include some traditions from both of our religions for our wedding, so we won't be doing stuff too traditionally."

Cecilia nodded. "Yeah. Besides, we aren't really religious. The traditions are just pretty important to us, especially Char." She pushed some of her blonde curls behind her ear. "Also, we want members from both of our families and our friends who are more religious to feel at home."

Whizzer hummed. "That's really cool, actually."

Mark shrugged. "They're just very thoughtful, as always. You get used to it." Cecilia rolled her eyes.

Whizzer chuckled before continuing. "Anyways, back to the venue." He leaned forwards a little. "If I'm remembering correctly, you're going for a navy blue and floral theme?"

The wives-to-be nodded, and Cecilia replied, "Yeah, navy blue's Char's favorite color." She shared sickeningly sweet looks with her fiancée and Mark fake gagged.

"God, get a room. You have a guest," he joked but Whizzer waved him off.

"I think it's sweet, " he remarked. "Anyhow, that sounds like it should be fairly easy to work with." He tapped the table. He leaned back. "Now, while this is far from the fun part, let's talk prices."

Mark zoned out from there, only able to hear muffled voices as his thoughts took over.

Since he helped manage finances, he should probably be paying attention. But more importantly, in his opinion, was the fact that this whole dinner was leaving him feeling warm and fuzzy inside. He wasn't sure why, but seeing Whizzer get along so well with Charlie and Cecilia felt...right. Like a puzzle piece had fallen into place or something.

Similar to many of the revelations he had gotten today, he found that unusual. He supposed that at this point he shouldn't find these things unusual anymore, but he couldn't help it. This shit, no matter how much of it he went through, was still weird. And it would likely never stop being weird.

But, that wasn't the point. Something about seeing the three bond and laugh felt great. It made him feel this strange elation. Perhaps it was just the idea of having another friend who got along so well with his closest friends felt nice.

After a while, he was brought back into the real world. "Now I know this isn't about the wedding but, Mark told us you guys met up the other day," Charlie began, and Mark groaned. "I wanted to hear your side of the story."

Whizzer quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? Why's that?"

Ceci shrugged, her light curls bouncing with her. "Just curious, y'know?" She turned to Mark who was pouting. "Mark doesn't hang out with other people very often."

Mark huffed, leaning back in his chair. "Wow thanks for outing me for my lack of social life, guys."

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Oh suck it up ya big baby."

Whizzer laughed, covering his grin with his hand. "Alrighty then, um." He leaned forward in his chair, leaning on his hand. "Well, I was just walking home from work and I saw him passed out on a bench." He tilted his head to the side as Char and Ceci watched with intrigue.

"I was initially going to just walk by until I realized I recognized who it was." He snickered and Mark glared.

"Ha-ha, very funny."

"Yeah, it was." Whizzer ran a hand through his hair. "I woke him up, got him coffee and walked him home."

Charlie turned to Mark. "What were you doing asleep on a bench?"

"Look, I didn't get a good amount of sleep that week, okay?" Mark whined.

Char and Ceci burst into laughter, Whizzer and Mark joining soon thereafter. Though Mark did see slightly concerned looks being directed his way by Charlie and Cecilia.

The conversation continued normally from there until Whizzer looked down at his phone.

He sighed and stood up. "Well, now that we have all that settled, I should probably be on my way."

Char and Ceci also stood up, so Mark followed suit.

Ceci pouted playfully. "Are you sure? You can stay a bit longer if you want." Mark silently agreed.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Don't bug him."

Whizzer grinned. "I would love to stay longer but I really need to get going. I have a bus to catch."

Cecilia sighed. "Aw, alright" She grinned. "It was nice to meet you Whizzer."

Charlie nodded thoughtfully. "And once again, we are so grateful you agreed to be our photographer despite it being last minute."

Mark piped up. "Yeah, uh, thanks for that." Whizzer turned to him, smiling. "You really didn't have to," Mark added, a little breathlessly. He wasn't sure why, but Whizzer's gaze made him a little...nervous? Yeah, nervous. Weird.

"No need, I'm glad I got the opportunity." Whizzer picked up his jacket from where he left it on the back of the chair and pulled it on. "Well, I'll see you all later."

Mark quickly pushed his chair in. "Let me walk you out."

Whizzer quirked an eyebrow. "Alright, if you insist," he said, his tone teasing.

Mark chuckled, but couldn't help noticing the weird look he was getting from Cecilia. Once she noticed he had seen her, she smirked, a knowing look in her eyes. Mark promptly decided to ignore it.

They said their farewells. Whizzer got one of Cecilia's trademark borderline suffocating hugs and a firm handshake from Charlie. Then they headed out.

———

They bantered as they had on the way there, but once they were outside they fell silent. Mark shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, not sure what to do. He wasn't sure if he was actually ready for Whizzer to leave yet. Considering he had been practically out of it most of the time he was there.

Whizzer sighed, immediately drawing Mark's attention.

"Y'know," Whizzer began, taking a hand out of the pockets of his bomber jacket and running it through his hair. "I kinda thought you were a stalker or some shit when I first met you, Mark."

Mark laughed. Partly in amusement and partly in disbelief. "What?"

Whizzer chuckled. "Well, I was a lil’ weirded out. After, y'know, meeting someone who knew my name and job before I told them."

That's when the playful atmosphere fizzled a little. Whizzer hadn't brought that whole ordeal up once since they met and ate lunch together at the mall. And now Mark could feel that old awkward tension between them returning.

"Right, that." Mark shifted from foot to foot, directing his gaze to the ground. It had been over a week since then and Mark had even started to forget that it happened altogether.

The two were silent for a bit, and Mark glanced up at Whizzer again. He was staring at him, an indiscernible look on his face. It made Mark's stomach tie in knots. The uncertainty of how Whizzer was feeling, what he was thinking, was enough to make him fidget.

"Do you know why you knew those things?" Whizzer asked, his expression and tone unreadable.

Mark blinked a few times before answering, "No, not really."

It wasn't a lie. He had a hunch it was something to do with his dreams, but he couldn't be entirely sure. What Menachem said yesterday could be right. They could just be dreams. Or, if Mark was right, more than that. But that was the thing. He didn't know for sure, and whether he ever would is up for debate.

Whizzer nodded, turning away. Mark watched him worry his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Weird," Whizzer muttered with a sigh. Mark could hear some frustration in his voice, and Mark couldn't blame him. He looked down at his feet, frowning. He was frustrated too.

But, now that Whizzer had brought the mall encounter up, he remembered something.

Mark looked back up at Whizzer. "Hey, you never told me what name you think would suit me best." Mark smiled awkwardly.

Whizzer quirked an eyebrow, before letting out an, "Oh yeah. You're right." He smiled. "I completely forgot about that." The tension fizzled, returning to its previous, more playful state.

Mark shrugged. "Better late than never." He tilted his head to the side a little. "So, what name suits me so much better than Mark?"

Whizzer snickered. "Well," he turned to Mark. "You look more like a Marvin to me."

Mark felt that buzz again, and his eyes widened slightly. "Marvin?" He chuckled.

Whizzer shrugged. "Yeah." He looked down at his shoes. "You just seem like a Marvin, y'know."

In a way, he felt like he did know. The name felt familiar in a way like he...missed it? Like a pair of shoes that you forgot you had but used to really like or something.

"Yeah, I guess I can see it." That buzz was slowly growing more intense and Mark rubbed his temples, brows furrowing.

Whizzer quirked an eyebrow, looking back down at Mark. "Are you alright?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah, I'm..." his head suddenly cleared. "Fine," he said breathlessly.

Whizzer nodded slowly, frowning a little. "You got a headache or somethin'?"

Mark shook his head. "Nope. I'm fine." He sighed. "You should probably get going. It's getting late."

Whizzer looked up at the sky and hummed. "Yeah, you're right." He looked down at Mark. "See ya later." He started to step away backward, giving a little wave before turning around and walking off.

Mark watched him leave until he was out of sight. He rubbed his face with trembling hands before running them through his curly hair.

Marvin was what Whizzer called him in his dream, too.

Mark wasn't sure if he really wanted to consider what those things might mean, so he turned around and walked back into the apartment building. He was tempted for whatever reason to go back outside as soon as he closed the door, but brushed it off.

Instead, he went back to his apartment. He could talk to Charlie and Cecilia about whatever prices they had settled on tomorrow. He was going to need a lot of sleep before he could even begin to process what all of this meant.

He wasn't even sure if that would be enough.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh,, hi guys. It's been a while lol. Sorry about that, hopefully I can get the next chapter out sooner. Anyhow, enjoy this long-awaited chapter lmao.

_"Dad?"_

_Marvin looked down at Jason. The young boy was clenching his fists, a mix of emotions on his face. Anger, sadness, fear. All the things Marvin was feeling too, whether he wanted to show it or not. "Yes, kiddo?" Marvin forced a comforting grin, brows furrowed. Jason looked down at the floor for a moment, as if to ponder something._

_They suffered in silence for a few moments, before Jason looked up at Marvin. Marvin felt his heart break at the mix of despair and determination in his son's eyes._   
_Jason faced Marvin fully now as he spoke, "Dad, is Whizzer going to die?"_

_Marvin's breath caught in his throat, and he looked away. That was a terrible question, one Marvin knew the answer to. But if he said it, that would make it real. It would smother out any hope left either of them. And even without that, how could he look his son in the eyes and say it? He couldn't. He should, but he wouldn't. He had not done a lot of things he probably should have, and it looked like he wasn't stopping anytime soon. "Jace…" He looked back down at him, once again forcing a smile._   
_He leaned down, resting a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Whizzer's going to be fine. I'm sure of it." He patted his son's shoulder. "He’s a strong, persistent man. He won't be beaten by this, okay?" Marvin's words sounded hollow even to himself, and he could tell Jason didn't believe him. But Jason smiled, and he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his father. Marvin returned the gesture, placing a kiss on the top of Jason's head. He couldn't help but feel familiar gratefulness whenever his son hugged him. Two years ago, this would never have happened. But here he was. "Everything's going to be alright, okay kid?" He rubbed comforting circles on Jason's back. "I swear." He leaned back, placing both of his hands on Jason's shoulders. "Now, let's go pay him a visit. We don't wanna keep him waiting now, do we?"_

_______

Mark was about as tired of this as he possibly could be.

He groaned, leaning forward on the wheel of his car. It was quite the scene to behold. He was hunched over in a car with his radio on almost full blast, in the middle of a fast-food parking lot.

Now, one may wonder how you end up like this, and it's thankfully pretty easy to explain.

He had spent the better part of his day on his laptop. Not working, mind you, he was off today. But he might as well have been working. He had been trying to find an explanation for the mess his life had become, not anything really important. The internet had seemed like a good place to start. Boy, was he wrong. Mark couldn't say he was surprised. It wasn't normal to have dreams like his or to meet people from them. It just wasn't a universal experience, so he wasn't going to find anything about it. So this was, in the end, a complete waste of his time.

He leaned back in his seat and sighed. He thought remembering his dreams would give him some answers, but he had ended up with more questions.  
Speaking of remembering his dreams, last night's was less than pleasant. Depressing as hell, to put it lightly. So he had woken up that morning feeling bummed, as he had been for a while now. That was the thing, about these dreams. The sad stuff either dragged on forever or popped up out of nowhere and disappeared. So every night as he got into bed, he had to worry about whether or not he'd be waking up an hour later in tears. Not great.

After what had felt like an eternity of scrounging for answers, which was really just a few hours, he needed to get his mind off of this.  
Which was why he was here now, in a fast food joint parking lot. He had been, y'know, trying to get his mind off things. So, he did something he typically didn't do; He went out to eat. It was getting late and he was hungry, and he knew eating alone in his apartment would only force him to be alone with his thoughts. He had thought about eating with Char and Ceci until he remembered this was their date night. No thanks. He sees enough of their sappiness every other day and didn't feel like intruding either.

So, he got in his car and left. He would need to be picking up Jacob later anyways. But now, he kind of just wanted to go home. Because so far, it wasn't working. He was still stuck in his thoughts, mainly because he was still alone. Even if he blasted music and drove, he was still alone with his thoughts. He was sure it would be the same way when he went in to eat too. Time couldn't pass fast enough. This would probably be solved when he picked up Jacob. The kid typically talks enough for both of them when he's in the right mood. But, there was still time between picking him up and now.

He was still lost in his train of thought when someone tapped his car window. He jolted, swiftly turning to the person in question. He visibly relaxed when the person on the other side came into view. He quickly turned off his radio and rolled down his window. "Whizzer! Uh, hey."

Whizzer grinned, one eyebrow raised. "Hey Mark, what's up?"

Mark laughed awkwardly. ‘A lot’. "Nothin'," he replied with practiced ease.

Whizzer quirked an eyebrow. "Really? 'Cause, you were just hunched up alone in your car."

Mark rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling lightly. "I'm really tired." It wasn't a lie.

Whizzer pouted. "Did you not get any sleep again or something?"

Mark shook his head. "It's not that, just, general middle-aged exhaustion."

Whizzer laughed, leaning against the car. "Well, I suppose that's better."

Mark laughed lightly as well. "Yeah, I guess."

The two fell silent for a moment before Whizzer spoke up again. "Anyways, are you planning on going inside the restaurant or-?"

Mark blinked, then nodded. "Oh, yeah, of course."

Whizzer stepped back as Mark turned off the car and stepped out. "'M glad I ran into you today."

Mark looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow. "Oh? Why's that?"

Whizzer wrapped an arm around Mark's shoulders, causing the latter to tense. "Well, I have some stuff I wanna talk to you about." He looked down at Mark as he stepped away from Whizzer's grasp, looking around apprehensively. "So, would you mind joining me for a definitely unhealthy dinner?"

Mark rolled his eyes, letting his nerves settle. "I don't see why not."

Whizzer put his hands in the pockets of his fluffy jacket, his typical confident grin on his face. "Good. Let's get going then, Marky boy."

\--------

Whizzer and Mark headed into the fast-food joint, one looking considerably more apprehensive of the other, as always. It was a nice, plain place. The booths bright red, the tile only a little dirty, etc. Y’know, your typical, family-friendly American diner.

They ordered and paid for their food before heading over to one of the empty, mostly clean booths.

"So," Mark began, watching Whizzer tap a tune on the table nonchalantly. "Why did you want to talk to me?"

Whizzer perked up a little. "Right." He leaned forward, propping his head on his hand. "So, I wanted to talk to you about the whole," he made a vague gesture. "’You knowing things about me’... Stuff."

Mark groaned. So much for getting his mind off of this. "Look, I told you before, I'll tell you again- I don't know-"

Whizzer shook his head. "Nope! Not what I meant, mister." He smiled, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I wanna know if you know more. I'm curious."

Mark blinked, eyebrows furrowing. "Pardon?"

Whizzer sighed, leaning back. "I mean, do you know more than you’ve already told me about?"

Mark shrunk a little. "Um… Yeah. I mean, nothing... Weird."

Whizzer rose a bit in his seat, his interest already piqued. "Really?"

Mark nodded slowly, grimacing awkwardly. "Mhm."

Whizzer tilted his head to the side and seemed like he was about to ask a question when the waiter arrived with their food. They said their ''thank you''s and the waiter left.

Whizzer took a sip of his soft drink before speaking up. "So, do you know my favorite color?"

Mark nodded once more, fidgeting slightly. "Mint green, right?"

Whizzer sat up a little straighter. "..Yeah, actually. That's freaky." He leaned closer. "How about… My favorite flower?"

Mark didn't think long before he replied. "Roses." Whizzer chuckled a little out of disbelief.

"Favorite dessert?"

"Key-lime pie."

"Middle name?"

"Micah."

"Jesus." Whizzer leaned back, and Mark tried to regulate his breathing. This was, for lack of a better expression, freaking him the fuck out. "Are you like, psychic, or something?" Whizzer asked, one eyebrow raised.

Mark shrugged, shrinking into his seat. "I don't think so." He picked at his fries, eating a few of them nervously. They sat in silence, and after a while Whizzer's curious gaze got overbearing. Mark sighed "Let's talk about something else, please?"

Whizzer's eyes widened and he pouted slightly, a concerned gaze replacing the curious one. "Alright, you okay?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He shifted in his seat, a slight frown on his face. "There's just… No point in talking about it." There probably is, as Whizzer has an outsider opinion. It might help to talk to someone else who isn't Menachem. But he had left the house specifically to get his mind off of this stuff, so he was going to do just that. A silence settled over them again, and Mark tapped his foot on the tiled floor below. This was all a lot. Dreams, and, not to mention, what was left of the wedding planning was beginning to become overbearing. He sighed, leaning his head back.

"What's on your mind?" Whizzer spoke up, and Mark looked back at him.

"Huh?" He blinked a few times. "Oh, uh, a lot I guess." He gnawed at his bottom lip. "Just, Char and Ceci's wedding is in a few months, y'know?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "And, there’re still quite a few things that need to be done," he explained awkwardly. He supposed he was going to have to get used to confiding in someone other than Menachem and the wives-to-be. And, unlike the topic from before, talking about this didn't make it hard for him to breathe.

Whizzer hummed before taking another sip of his drink. "Do you need some help?" Mark raised his eyebrows. "Uh, I mean, Char and Ceci are there…" he mumbled. "They’re pretty busy too, though…" Whizzer leaned forward, a grin on his face. "You should let me help, I am going to need to know what's going on after all."

Mark leaned back and smiled awkwardly. "Uh, are you sure?"

Whizzer nodded. "I don't have much else better to do." He tilted his head slightly to the side. "And, as I said, I'm gonna need to know some details about the wedding, anyways." Mark slowly nodded. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to have some more help.

"Uh, alright then." He picked at the edge of the booth table. "I do most of my work involving the wedding at home, though."

Whizzer shrugged. "Alright, well, when can I come over?" Mark felt his nerves begin to act up a little, though he wasn't completely sure why. He rubbed his face, taking a minute to think. His thoughts were scattered, though, when his phone began to blare in his pocket. It only took a moment to realize why. Shit. He fished it out of his pocket. Trinity was calling him, and it was 6:30 pm. Fuck. He should have been there to pick up Jacob ten minutes ago.

He stood up frantically, answering the phone. "Hey, sorry, I lost track of time." Whizzer watched him, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Alright, well I was just checking," Trinity said calmly from the other end. "Will you be here soon?"  
Mark nodded and shot Whizzer an apologetic glance. "Yeah, I'll be there in a few minutes, don't worry." Trinity hummed and hung up. Mark put his phone back in his pocket and turned to Whizzer. "Sorry, I have to go. I have, uh, a job… Thing, I was supposed to be at a while ago." Mark didn't enjoy blatantly lying about this, but he had good reason. Debatably. He wasn't sure if he was completely ready to talk about that part of his personal life. Besides, who knows how Whizzer's opinion would change about him? It was best if he didn't know about Jacob, for now. Though the guilt swirling in his stomach almost made him take it back.

Whizzer nodded slowly, a strangely disappointed look on his face. "Alright, but my point still stands. Text me when I can come over, whenever you get the chance."

Mark chuckled. "Yeah, of course." He ran a hand through his hair. "See you, later, I guess." Whizzer simply waved as Mark briskly gathered up his leftovers and left.

\-------

It only took him a few minutes to arrive at Trinity and Menachem's house, apologize to the aforementioned couple, and pick up Jacob. Now, he was driving in silence with his son. He knew he shouldn't feel so guilty. He was only a few minutes late, and Trinity and Menachem were mostly unbothered. Jacob hadn't even mentioned it. And yet, he still felt guilty. It was dumb, but whatever. "Hey, kiddo?"

Jacob looked up, slowly taking off his headphones. "Yeah?"

"Sorry for being a little late today, I lost track of time," Mark said, keeping his gaze on the road.

Jacob hummed a little. "'S fine, dad," he remarked nonchalantly.

Mark nodded awkwardly, tapping his foot nervously. Why the hell did he feel so guilty? He wasn't even doing anything bad. Jesus. They sat in silence again for a while, awkward mainly on Mark's side. It wasn't unusual, as Jacob had to be in a specific mood to be chatty. Friday evenings typically weren't the times for those moods as Jacob was usually visibly tired. Mark didn't mind. He was just happy to be around the kid. Except right now, because he was feeling really guilty and a whole lot of dread just looking at the kid. Did the dread have something to do with last night's dream? Maybe, considering that's where a lot of his unexplained guilt and dread came from. Maybe it wasn't completely because of the whole ‘being late’ thing. It wasn't much of a reach considering how often his dreams affected his feelings. The thought of them starting to mix was plausible.

"Dad?" Mark jumped a little, glancing at his son.

"Yeah, bud?" Just at a glance, the kid looked suspicious. It was both unnerving and adorable on his 12-year-old face.

"Where were you?"

Mark laughed nervously, tensing up slightly. He shouldn't feel so nervous about it. He hadn't done anything wrong, he was just out for dinner with a friend. So why did his heart start beating so damn fast? "Why do you ask?"  
Jacob shrugged leaning back in his seat. "You look kinda guilty about something." God, this kid is way too intuitive.

"Do I?" Mark asked, tapping the steering wheel as they came to a stop at a red light. It almost felt like nothing went willfully unnoticed by the boy sometimes.

"Yeah," Jacob said bluntly, fiddling with something on his phone. Mark tapped the steering wheel, sighing. "I was just out for dinner and lost track of time." Jacob seemed to consider his words for a second. Mark swore that for a moment he could see the gears turning in the kid’s head.  
Jacob's eyes suddenly sparked with a realization. "Were you on a date with someone?"

Mark choked on his spit, struggling to reply as the light turned green and he had to start driving again.

Jacob took his few seconds of silence as an answer. "About time," he remarked, leaning back into his seat and staring out the front window.

Caught completely off guard, Mark burst out laughing. "About time?" He managed to hold down his confused and surprised laughter so he could speak.

Jacob rolled his eyes, a slight pout on his face. "Dad, as long as I've been alive you haven't dated anyone. Meanwhile, mom is married," he stated matter-of-factly.

In a way, the kid had a point, and Mark would be lying if he said that fact didn't make him feel a little embarrassed. "Well, first of all, it wasn't a date. Second of all, you really shouldn't be worrying about my love life, you're twelve." He gestured wildly with one hand and kept the other on the wheel. "And thirdly, I'm too busy for a relationship right now."

"Bull." Jacob sighed over dramatically.

"Jesus, kid." Mark chuckled lightly. He thought for a second before saying, "What did you even get the idea from?"

Jacob tilted his head to the side slightly. "You're reminding me of Mister Menachem, in the stories he tells about him and Mom, I mean. And guys on TV," he explained with a shrug.

Mark chuckled a little at Jacob's adamance towards not calling Menachem “Dad”. He still wasn't entirely sure where the habit came from, but he found it amusing nonetheless. As Jacob's words settled in, though, he found himself less amused. He wasn't sure how he felt about the implications. Was he acting like he…? Nah. Of course he wasn't. He didn't act like Menachem anyways, so their behaviors wouldn't be similar when it came to... That kind of thing anyway.

He was snapped out of his pondering as Jacob looked back up at him and said, "So, you were out with someone?"

Mark gulped. "Uh yeah, a friend of mine." Jacob tilted his head to the side while Mark sighed in response. "I met him at the mall a week or two ago while I was shopping with Char and Ceci," he explained.

Jacob hummed in response. "So, you're not dating?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "No, kiddo, we're not." He wasn't a fan of the weird warmth spreading to his face. Jacob nodded slowly before putting his headphones back on and returning to whatever he was doing on his phone. Mark let out a breath, staring intensely at the road in front of him. He welcomed the silence and began to relax for the first time all day. He hoped he could keep his mind off of all of this for the rest of the weekend. He felt he deserved a break, as it was the least the world could do for him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... hopefully I can get the next chapter out sooner." Um.  
Hey guys, sorry about that. I have been very very busy and also been struggling with motivation so I have been unable to get any chapters out. But, I will have more free time soon so hopefully, I'll be able to get out a few chapters before writer's block shows up again. Anyhow, enjoy!

_"Your move, Whizzer." _

_Jason was sitting in a plastic seat next to Whizzer's bed, while Marvin examined all of the machines on the other side with an attentive look on his face. Now and then he would glance toward his son and lover to watch them for a minute until something about the machines caught his attention again. _

_Whizzer reached over and moved one of his knights, Jason watching him attentively._

_ "I don't know why you still play with me, kid." Whizzer chuckled weakly, coughing a few times and catching Marvin's attention. Marvin reached over and placed a hand on his lover's arm, who waved him off. "'M fine." _

_Marvin nodded slowly, giving the machines one last nervous glance before sitting on the edge of the bed. He directed his attention to the chess game unfolding between his son and lover. _

_"Why wouldn't I?" Jason asked, moving his rook to take the aforementioned knight. Whizzer smiled, moving one of his pawns. "Well, I'm not very good, kid," he said bluntly. _

_Jason shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Are you not having fun?" _

_Whizzer shook his head a little. "No, I am." Jason nodded, staring at the board with an unusual amount of focus for a young boy. _

_"Well, that's why I still play with you then," Jason said, moving his bishop. Marvin smiled, leaning against Whizzer. Days like this helped rekindle the swiftly fading fire of hope he still had. Seeing Whizzer and Jason so happy, preoccupied with the game rather than what was unfolding every day, was a relief. It almost felt like it would last forever. _

_\---_

Friday and Saturday went by faster than expected. Not in a bad way. In a: "Mark finally wasn't constantly stuck in his head," kinda way. So fast, actually, that he completely forgot to text Whizzer when he got home Friday. Shit.

Mark realized this as he slowly woke up Sunday morning, staring at his ceiling with that all too familiar sadness when the realization hit him like a football to the head.

He sat up, not slowly but not particularly in a rush either, and grabbed his phone. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty as he typed up a message considering he had plenty of time over the weekend to text Whizzer, but it completely slipped his mind. Which was pretty strange considering Whizzer had been all he was ever able to think about recently.

He knew he shouldn't feel too guilty. Whizzer had said to text him whenever he could, and he had no way of knowing Mark had an opportunity until now.

Mark let out a frustrated huff, directed mainly at himself. After a few revisions to make sure there weren't any embarrassing typos, Mark sent a message explaining he should be available all week after work, except for Fridays and the weekends. As far as he knew Char and Ceci didn't have any plans regarding inviting Mark over, so it felt almost pathetic that he would be free a good portion of the time because his neighbors are busy. But it was convenient in this context.

Mark promptly shoved his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants and dragged himself out of bed. He picked his glasses up off the nightstand and put them on as he stumbled out of his room. On his way down the hall, he checked Jacob's room out of habit. The boy was sound asleep in his bed, and once Mark noticed this he continued to the kitchen.

Faint sunlight filtered through the kitchen window's blinds, bathing the kitchen in a cold grey glow. Mark grimaced a little at the feeling of the cold tiled floor as he poured hot water and coffee grounds into the coffee maker. Mark was listening to the brewing coffee when his phone buzzed in his pocket, snapping him out of a daze he hadn't realized he'd fallen into. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, its screen still lit up with a notification. A text from Whizzer.

_Alright, how does Tues-Thursday sound? _

_That's fine with me. _

_Great! I'll see you then :) _

Mark felt himself grinning involuntarily, brows furrowing a little, before being startled out of it by a boyish clearing of the throat. He looked up and his goofy grin fell slightly, only now noticing Jacob who was staring at him, pop tart in hand.

"Morning, Dad," Jacob mumbled before biting into his breakfast pastry.

"Ah- G'morning, kiddo." Mark smiled again, albeit awkwardly, and set his phone down.

After a few moments of silence, Jacob spoke up again. "Who were you texting?"

Mark blinked. "Huh? Oh, uh, no one, don't worry about it." He quirked an eyebrow. "How long have you been in here?"

Jacob shrugged, taking another bite of his pop tart. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Was it Whizzer?"

"Huh?"

"Whizzer, the guy you were talking about the other day."

"Oh, uh…" Mark laughed lightly. "Yeah, actually."

Jacob nodded thoughtfully, his curly bedhead of hair bouncing as he did. "Thought so."

Mark tilted his head slightly to the side. "What?"

Jacob gave him an incredulous look. "Well, if it was anyone else, like Mom, Charlie, or Cecilia, you would've told me. And you don't text Menachem."

Mark shrugged. "Fair.”

Jacob fell completely silent after that, resorting to eating his pop tart as Mark's coffee finally finished brewing, and the aforementioned man poured himself a cup. Mornings like this were something Mark cherished. They were typically as quiet as any other morning, but not the usual lonely quiet. Because there was someone else there, being quiet with him. It was pleasant.

Mark's phone buzzed again, and he found himself scrambling to snatch it up, only to slightly deflate when he realized it wasn't Whizzer. It was Trinity. Jacob watched Mark the bumbling fool with his typical curious gaze.

_ Mark, I'm going to need you to drop Jacob off this week, something came up_.

Pushing down the completely embarrassing and unwelcome disappointment he found himself feeling, Mark replied.

_Alright, we'll be there before dinner. _

Mark promptly placed his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants before looking back to Jacob, who seemed to still be watching him. "That was uh, your mom," he explained. "She said I'm going to need to drop you off over there today."

Jacob finished his pop tart before replying nonchalantly. "M'kay."

Mark nodded awkwardly. "Right...well." Mark coughed. "What do you wanna do today, bud?"

\---

"Good afternoon, Mark."

Mark smiled tensely as Jacob slipped past him and the woman standing in front of him. "Hey, Trinity." He liked to think their relationship had gotten less strained over the years, but since they're no longer forced to spend as much time together as they used to, it's always tense or purely business conversations with her for the most part. Which is why what Trinity proposed next took him by surprise.

She sighed and smoothed off her skirt, but put on a polite smile. "Would you like to join us for dinner?"

Mark blinked, barely restraining himself from straight-up gawking at her. "Huh?"

She crossed her arms and stepped back slightly, opening up the doorway. She sighed good-naturedly. "Menachem kept rambling about wanting to talk to you, so if you could join us for dinner that would be lovely."

Mark laughed slightly, before clearing his throat. That made considerably more sense. "Ah, okay, well...sure then." He stepped inside as Trinity closed the door behind him.

She immediately started to make her way to the kitchen. "I'll be back in a minute, first I need to make sure Menachem hasn't ruined dinner in the moments I left him in charge," she quipped.

Mark felt himself relax slightly. Seeing her happy was...reassuring. After all he put her through, he was glad she still had some pep in her step. Mark nodded, though she wasn't paying attention, and turned to observe the house. His eyes landed on Jacob just as he disappeared up the stairs before directing his attention to the rest of the house. He had only been inside a handful of times, and it hadn't changed much. Everything still felt very stereotypically homey. Not in a bad way. Just, normal. Pictures hung up on the wall of the three of them, including a few with Mark and the brides to be. It was very clean, too. Everything looked like it was where it needed to be. It was just a nice, normal house. A normal life. Something Mark still found himself longing for every now and then, despite thinking he was past all of that.

"Mark, hey!" Menachem unceremoniously stumbled into the living room where Mark had previously been lost in thought. He was just as full of energy as usual.

"Oh, hi, Menachem," Mark replied, fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves. "You wanted to talk to me?"

Menachem immediately perked up. "Oh, yeah! I did." He strode over before plopping down on the couch. He patted the spot next to him.

Mark hesitated before sitting down a little farther away than where Menachem had suggested. He wasn't a huge fan of sitting too close to other people. Unless it was the lesbians, of course. "I'm guessing this is about last time."

Menachem smiled. "Yup! You guessed right." He leaned forward slightly. "Any updates on the Whizzer situation?"

Mark stared at him for a moment, brows furrowed. He crossed his arms and leaned back. "What do you mean?"

Menachem leaned back again. "I mean, any new dream stuff or whatever?"

Mark tilted his head slightly to the side. He wasn't sure about how he felt about where this conversation was going. "I thought you said you didn't believe in this stuff."

"I don't. "

"Oh," Mark said flatly before raising an eyebrow. "Then why are you asking?"

Menachem shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, you believe in it, and I'm sure you want to talk about it so…" he waved a hand around as if to emphasize his point. "What's up with Whizzer?"

Mark shrugged. "Nothing new, really."_ Other than the fact that I can remember all my dreams now,_ he didn't add. 

Menachem frowned slightly, looking disappointed. He was obviously hoping for Mark to open up more. "Are you sure?"

"Yup."

Menachem sighed. "Oh. Well, if you ever want to talk to me more about it-"

"Who's Whizzer?"

The two men jumped in surprise. Their attention was now drawn to the kitchen entrance where Trinity now stood, one eyebrow raised as she rubbed her hands with a hand towel. Menachem laughed nervously. "Oh, uh-"

Mark interrupted him. "A friend of mine." He wasn't going to let Menachem find some way to make this situation more awkward than it was, considering his habit of making situations like this worse. Never on purpose, of course.

Trinity nodded slowly. "Ah, a friend?" She leaned against the doorframe.

Mark nodded slowly in response. It sounded like she was trying to imply...something. Mark wasn't sure how he felt about it. "Mhm. A friend." She stared at him for a moment before shrugging. But she still looked strangely suspicious. It reminded him of Jacob when Mark first mentioned Whizzer. Perhaps that's where Jacob got it from.

Trinity brushed some of her hair out of her face. "Alright, well, dinner's ready. Dear, would you mind fetching Jacob?" She gave Menachem…a look. Mark wasn't sure how to describe it, and sure as hell didn't know what it meant. But Menachem seemed to understand.

Menachem gave Trinity a knowing look, before nodding cheerily. "Of course, Trin." He hopped up off the couch and strode over to the stairwell, leaving Trinity and Mark alone.

Mark stood up, fidgeting slightly. Trinity turned to him. "Mark?"

Mark jumped slightly. "Ye-Yeah?"

"Can you help me set up the table?"

"Oh...uh, yeah. Of course."

Trinity nodded before disappearing into the kitchen, Mark following suit. Trinity strode over to the cabinets, her skirt swishing as she walked. She opened them and started pulling out dishes, before glancing towards Mark. "You can get the silverware." She tilted her head in the direction of the drawers. "Make sure to place them properly, please."

Mark nodded slowly, doing as she said. He gathered up silverware and placed them accordingly on the table. Trinity had always been a very organized woman. Even back in college when she was expected to care less, she cared a lot. She was always cleaning & organizing their apartment on top of school work. Not to mention the only one between the two of them who really made an attempt to keep kosher. Mark had always been impressed, but he didn't talk about it much at the time. Even with a kid, marriage, and her full-time job, she was still keeping things orderly.

Trinity set the dishes in a stack on the counter, next to the pots of pasta and sauce. She brushed her skirt off with her hands and turned to Mark, her gaze prying. "So," she began, tilting her head slightly to the side and fidgeting with her hair. "You've met a new...person?"

Mark tilted his head to the side as well, brows furrowing. Trinity never really pried into his private life. She had never seemed interested enough. He didn't blame her or anything, people don't often directly ask their exes about their private life. "Whizzer?" Trinity nodded, leaning casually against the counter. "Yes, Whizzer." She coughed awkwardly into her hand. She didn't often express awkwardness, Mark had seldom seen her as anything other than calm and collected. Seeing her out of her element made him feel awkward. He hadn't seen her like this in years. It wasn't that dramatic or anything, just...rare, nowadays. She set her hand down on the counter, tapping it rhythmically. "What's he like?" She asked, seeming to regret it as if it hadn't meant to come out of her mouth, and then backtracked. "Ah, do forgive me for prying. You just-" she hesitated. "Mark you don't, ever make friends," she stated matter-of-factly.

Mark shrugged. He was used to this curiosity by now, considering how much everyone else has pried. "Don't worry, you're not the only one surprised." He crossed his arms. "Everyone else has basically asked the same thing for the same reason." Trinity seemed slightly relieved for a moment before returning to her usual calm demeanor. Mark cleared his throat. "And to answer your question, he's, uh," Mark frowned slightly. He didn't really know how to describe him. He was just...Whizzer. "I dunno, he's just himself." A distant, and strangely knowing look graced Trinity's features. "He's hard to describe?" Mark nodded awkwardly, chuckling. "Yeah, you could put it like that." The look disappeared as Trinity shook her head, one of her brows slightly furrowed. She looked confused for a moment before returning to a more neutral expression. She sighed and turned back to the pots and dishes. "Come on, let's fix our plates. Menachem and Jacob should be here any moment now."

\---

“I’ll do the dishes tonight, Trin.” Mark watched as Menachem stood up from the dinner table, offering his help with a cheesily valiant tone to his voice as he swept up his and the aforementioned woman’s plates.

“Ugh, ew.” Jacob grimaced and faux gagged as Trinity stood and placed a kiss on Menachem’s cheek.

“Thank you, dear.” She smiled softly as Menachem gathered the rest of the plates and brought them to the sink, before turning back to Mark and Jacob.

Mark flashed an awkward smile and cleared his throat. “I should probably get going, yes?” Dinner was nice, though he expected no less from Trinity. She had always been a good cook, especially her pasta dishes. Linguine in particular. She had been the sole reason he consumed anything other than fast food and coffee in college, and he really hadn’t realized how grateful he should’ve been at the time. Mainly because as soon as they broke up, Mark realized he didn’t know how to cook for shit and relied on leftovers from Charlie and Cecilia. “It’s getting, uh...kinda late, and I have work early tomorrow.”

Trinity nodded thoughtfully and Jacob said a quick, “G’night,” before rushing off and back up the stairs. Trinity smoothed over her skirt as Mark stood up.

“Thanks for having me, by the way,” Mark mentioned. “You didn’t have to,” he added.

Trinity shrugged. “Mark, don’t mention it. We’re still family.”

Mark nodded awkwardly. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” The conversation ended there, rather abruptly. The two walked in silence into the living room and up to the front door. Mark opened the door and stepped out into the chilled air, a subtle reminder of the upcoming holiday season. Mark stepped down the steps of the front porch, turning back to say goodbye but hesitating upon seeing Trinity’s expression. It was thoughtful, yet pointed. And it was directed directly towards Mark, making him shift from foot to foot.

She swiftly seemed to snap back to her senses, and lightly shook her head, her hair swaying with her. Expression as serious as always she said, “Good night, Mark.”

Mark nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Goodnight, Trin.”

Trinity smiled, just slightly, and closed the door without another word, now leaving Mark with the cold night and the sounds that came with it. Mark stood still for a moment, that expression still sitting with him. He didn’t see that expression often. Really, he hadn’t seen it in years. It usually meant he had said something that piqued her interest, but she wasn’t interested in sharing. Which typically meant she knew something he didn’t, often about him. He wasn’t really sure how she did it. How she seemed to figure things out way before he did, but she did. And knowing that she was figuring something out relevant to right now that he was still unaware of made him as uncomfortable as he remembers feeling way back when.

Mark snapped out of his train of thought and got in his car. He buckled himself in before sighing and leaning back into the chair. He was never going to catch a break, was he?


End file.
